My Canadian Cousin 2
by Tensleep
Summary: Steve Randle was my cousin by marriage, but my friend by choice. I just didn’t expect to be back in Tulsa again with no clue why. And when I found out why...Lets just say life was always complicated when it comes to Steve.
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I did it! I finished four papers in three days and here is my treat, even though I'm hoping there'll be more than just me enjoying this. Meh, you never know. I'm fried enough to just go with the flow.

Special thanks go out to Zickachik who is awesome at editing and figuring out random Tens-speak and prodding along lazy writers and…well, she's just swaesome.

Disclaimer: Well, I own Becca and any other random relatives that pop up. S.E. Hinton has been kind enough to let us all play with her toys, so she still owns The Outsiders.

Aside from that, I can't think of anything else, so let's get this thing rolling!

Chapter 1

June 1971

It was 2:25 PM. I knew this because I'd been checking my watch every five minutes since I had gotten off my plane at 1:33 PM local time. That meant Steve was nearly an hour late to come and pick me up. I was beginning to get worried because Steve was always punctual whenhe came to collect me from the Tulsa International Airport. The place smelled like burnt rubber and was always too hot – even in the wintertime. The smell was why I always wore perfume every time I got on the plane. At least it was a distraction for the ten or twenty minutes I always had to wait for Steve. I'd had an hour to try and ignore the combating smells now and I was more than ready for some fresh air before my head started to hurt. I'd never appreciated Steve's time management skills before now when he seemed to have lost them completely. Something had to be going on and I should have been more anxious about that, but I was far too bored to be anxious. I was severely regretting my lack of forethought when I bundled my new journal away at the bottom of my backpack. I would have liked to write down some of my frustrations so I could share them with Steve later when he actually did bother to show up.

I fingered the strap of the same old backpack I'd had since I was thirteen – it was Bobby's before that – and wondered for the dozenth time if I should just hail a cab and let Steve yell at me later. It wasn't my fault he was so late, but he'd yell at me anyways for worrying him. I smirked a little. If I tried to worry over Steve, he'd just push me away – like he had in the past. Still, he could worry himself sick over me and I had no say in the matter. Sometimes I wondered who was calling the shots when the rules for the "Steve-Becca friendship/family/confidant/not-quite-anything, but-everything-in-between relationship" were established almost five years ago now. God, had it been that long since I was an annoying brat forced into exile in Oklahoma and Steve was that jerk cousin who had good reasons for being like that? Since then, I'd seen Steve a grand total of twice. He never came to the Randle Christmas gatherings I was forced into and the three family barbeques I'd attended had been Steve-free, too. Not that it wasn't full of family members I doubt even Steve knew existed, but it wasn't the same as spending time with someone you came to know really well the way I liked to think I knew Steve. We only really got to connect when I came to visit Tulsa. Steve had been on the other side of the world and still came back claiming there was no place like home. I often snorted at that since his parents were still there and they made a place so un-home-like that it wasn't even funny. But there was something about Tulsa that did draw people.

Come to think of it, I hadn't been in Tulsa since...well, it had been two years at least. I'd come right down after Steve got back from Vietnam in '69. He'd been a bonehead and enlisted when he was finished school. Soda'd gone with them and the pair of them had killed people over there and been hurt right back. When Steve came home...Well,let's just say that the next time he gets broken like that, I am going to put up more of a fight before giving in and helping him again, if he even wants my help the next time. I was no drug or grief counsellor. I didn't think Steve would ever touch drugs again, though, and I doubted he could lose another friend as close as Sodapop Curtis had been to him. I never thought about Sodapop these days. He was my first crush and it hurt to miss him, especially because I knew Steve still missed him something awful. Steve didn't show many emotions. He was brought up thinking it was weak. But he still felt and I felt for him. I mostly didn't think about Soda because once I got going thinking about him, I thought about Dallas and Johnny and how lonely Steve should be without so many important people.

I shook my head. Steve was a survivor. Steve still had friends. Steve hated it when I pitied him. I really didn't have a reason to pity him right now. He'd sounded happy and even excited last time I had talked to him on the phone. Why? He wouldn't tell me, only that I had to come down to Tulsa and I should probably plan on staying most of the summer. So I'd packed up and here I was, surrounded by suitcases and my backpack with the old, tattered, ripped red sleeping bag I always brought with me. It wasn't like Steve to be secretive like that. I was going nuts trying to figure out what he could possibly not tell me over the phone and be happy about. He didn't have to trick me to get me to come, so I ruled that out, too. So either his Dad had cancer or he'd won a lot of money somewhere. Maybe he'd got his hands on that '52 Ford he kept gabbing about.

I tapped my foot and looked down at my watch again. 2:35 PM. I sighed. All that thinking and only ten minutes had passed. Steve was officially an hour late and I was well within my rights to go and find a cab over to Darry's. I thought Darry's would be a safe bet since I had no idea where Steve hung his hat these days. The last time I had seen him, he lived in a very poorly kept apartment that I really hoped he wasn't living in anymore. I nixed the cab idea again and leaned back in the plastic airport standard issue chair. Knowing my luck, Steve would show up exactly ten minutes after I took off and we'd be chasing each other around all afternoon.

I fingered a loose blonde strand of hair and tapped my foot again. Maybe all this thinking on Steve was what was getting me so full of impatient energy. It wasn't like I had much else to think on. I hadn't changed much in the last five years. My hair was still long and blonde, though I was a tad taller, a tad curvier and I had an education under my belt. Mostly, I was still the same sixteen-year-old. I painted still, I was probably still too naïve for Steve's liking, and I still knew absolutely nothing about cars. I fingered the hem of my beige skirt and wondered who would make a crack about it not being pink first. I hadn't owned anything pink in two years now. I guess it was just growing up and working for a living. I'd taken two semesters at college for business and art. I didn't like the business, but it was much easier to be an artist before every Joe schmuck and his dog started painting. Needless to say, I was grateful to Mark for the job he'd given me. I was helpless with blueprints and angles, but I could easily draw the places to look like what they would once they were finished. Mark was helpless the opposite way, so it worked out all around. I did still want to draw and paint my own things, but I needed a new angle that wasn't being over-killed in the market currently. Two-Bit would be helpful there. If anyone had an "out there" perspective on life, it was him. I don't mean to say he wasn't on planet earth with the rest of us, but he had a way at looking at life in a simple, honest, ironic view that most people couldn't get together. I admired that.

I was about to check my watch, again, when someone flopped down beside me, invaded my personal space and took a deep whiff of the perfume I was wearing. I just ducked my head and wondered how he always knew to show up when I was thinking about him.

"Perfume for me, Beckers?" he asked and I smiled.

"Of course, Two-Bit. Who else would I be wearing it for?" I asked and he grinned.

"Well, I'd be flattered if you meant it, especially with the chick fight I'd have on my hands."

Two-Bit had been married for about two and a half years now. I never expected him to settle down, but things change when you get your girl pregnant and her daddy comes after you with a shotgun. Not that Two-Bit wouldn't have married her anyway, but he was too slow on the draw for his father in law's tastes. Married life was good for him. His wife couldn't cook, so he was thinner, and he seemed more settled down. I hadn't seen him even touch a beer last time I'd been in town. He was selling cars then and seemed to be good at it. But then, he always could sell a drowning man a glass of water, as my dad would say.

"You'd enjoy that," I drawled, looking more closely at him, trying to figure out what was different. "Two-Bit, is that a moustache?"

"Yep. You like it?" he asked and I shook my head. "Why not?"

"It looks like you have a dead mouse on your upper lip," I informed him and he fingered it lightly.

"And here I thought Steve was just in a bad mood when he told me the exact same thing," he said and I patted his arm consolingly.

"Speaking of Steve, I take it he's busy?" I asked and Two-Bit nodded.

"Got wrapped up at the garage. This cherry red mustang got banged up and the lady who brought it in is paying an arm and a leg for Steve to have it back to perfect before her husband gets home from his business trip and sees it."

I winced; knowing how hard Steve would work if he was getting paid double time. He was working at a repair and restoration shop these days and he loved it. He loved cars. Anything that had a hood and an engine under it was home to him. He'd work for free if anyone would let him.

"And even if he doesn't finish, I think there's a meeting tonight."

I nodded to Two-Bit. Steve was a drug counsellor down at the legion hall. He'd been going there for his own counselling after he came back from Vietnam and was hooked on pretty much every drug I could name personally. He just kept going to talk after he was clean until they offered him a part-time job just talking with other veterans and kids who were having addiction problems. He was in on weekends and a few nights a week, even if he didn't have a lot of time to spare. I was so proud of him that it hurt.

"So he probably won't get home until late," I surmised.

Two-Bit nodded and stood up, holding out a gentlemanly hand to me. "We'll have a good time anyway."

I smirked at Two-Bit and let him haul me to my feet.

"Are all of these yours?" he asked, eyeing the two suitcases, the backpack and the blueprint roll sitting on my art case.

"Yep. Steve said to be prepared to stay the summer," I replied.

"Yeah, the summer, not for the rest of your life," he jested and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I should have brought the rest of my stuff just to spite you," I told him, picking up the backpack, blueprint roll and art case.

"We'd never get out of here," he surmised, but picked up my suitcases and started walking towards the entrance.

"So, why are you so late?" I asked to make conversation.

"Steve didn't get a hold of me until this morning at work. Then I had a show until noon and the afternoon staff meeting I ditched out of early," he informed me. "Got here as soon as I could, honest, Beckers."

"Show?" I asked and he nodded.

"I'm a radio host now."

"What happened to working at the car lot?" I asked and he shrugged.

"You try feeding a baby on commission. Plus, I have a city wide audience to listen to me talk all morning, great vacation time, lots of events to go to and a bonus every Christmas."

I couldn't argue with him on any of that. I would have taken the job in a heartbeat.

"I'm glad you're happy."

"Yeah, I am." He smirked. "Ain't that a laugh – Two-Bit 'I won't work' Mathews happy with what he's doing for a living."

"Hey, beats being one of the people out there who never find anything that makes them happy."

"Speaking of which, how's the art going?"

"Good, I guess. Steve told you?"

"No, he shows us your letters since you're too stuck up to write to the rest of us," he teased.

"Oh," I said, surprised.

"He enjoys getting your letters, Becca." He looked serious. "You always have a lot to say and he was glad you were doing well."

"Well, if I were to follow Steve's example, you'd get something like 'Doing fine. Don't worry – Becca'," I explained, using one of Steve's typical letter formats.

"That sounds like Steve alright," he commented, shaking his head. "You know, you've been in Tulsa at least an hour and you still haven't given me the opportunity to feel you up."

He waggled his eyebrows at me and I shoved him playfully before hugging him.

"Hmm…just what I thought – you grew out of those B cups."

"You'd be the expert on B cups. How is your wife, by the way?" I asked and Two-Bit chuckled.

"I knew you were jealous of her," he teased.

"Oh yes, so jealous. She caught you without any cooking, cleaning, or even money. If only every girl was so lucky," I drawled, climbing into Two-Bit's car. "Now, where to?"

"I'm the driver, I should be asking you that," he told me. "But since you ask, Darry's."

"Darry's?" I asked and Two-Bit nodded.

"Yep. He has that extra bedroom," Two-Bit explained with a shrug.

"Doesn't Steve have an extra bedroom?" I asked and Two-Bit shrugged. "C'mon, Two-Bit. What's Steve hiding? I'm dying to know."

It had to be something_ really_ good if he was dumping me off on Darry of all people.

"And I'd be dead if I told," Two-Bit replied, turning the engine over.

"I wouldn't tell!" I promised and he smirked.

"And since when can you keep a secret?" he asked and I glared at him. "Sorry, Beckers. You're just going to have to suck it up and be patient for a couple more hours."

"I am patient. He told me he had something to tell me two whole weeks ago!"

"Then it can keep a couple more hours," he stated and I sighed, settling back into the seat.

"Since when did you become such a grown up?"

"Since my toddler started getting into everything," he replied, getting us out of the parking lot. "Kids age you up pretty fast."

"I'll keep that in mind," I told him and he smirked at me.

"Hey, I'm still the one who puts the rubber snakes in the fridge or dryer or wherever every couple weeks to keep Rachel on her toes," he pointed out. "I still know how to act immature and have fun."

"Sure."

"Hey, do you want the grand tour?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I haven't been out of town that long," I chided him. "Besides, I'm exhausted. I just want to flop down and visit with Darry."

"I see. I'll just fade into the shadows then," Two-Bit said in a mock-hurt tone.

I let out an amused snort at that one. If Two-Bit Mathews did one thing in his life, it would not be fading into the background.

I watched the scenery as we got closer to the neighbourhood all the boys had grown up in and a few of them had died in.

"I missed this place."

"Look out, Tulsa," Two-Bit whooped. "Steve's Canadian cousin is back."

I groaned. It was going to be an interesting summer.

* * *

Ok, stay tuned for whenever I get more of this typed up! I wish there were computers who would do that for me, if they could read my writing…oh well.

Any comments are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, I am officially back in business. Be on the look out for more updates! If only everything in life was going this well...

Anyways, on with the usual!

Ch 2

"Darry, we're home!" Two-Bit yelled, dropping my suitcases unceremoniously in the foyer.

"He never would have guessed," I drawled and Two-Bit shrugged.

"Well, now he won't have to guess."

Two-Bit flopped down on the couch and sighed like he'd run a mile. I rolled my eyes and dragged the bags out of the doorway so no one would trip over them.

The living room was the same as it always was. I don't think Darry ever changed the positioning of the furniture or the placement of the pictures because it all worked well the way it was. His parents probably set it up this way the day they moved in for all I knew. The point was, Darry found something that worked and stuck with it. I, for one, was glad that there was a constant in Tulsa, no matter what.

"Are you going to just leave them there?" I asked and Two-Bit nodded.

"I brought 'em half way. You can take 'em the next half," he said, gesturing down the hall.

Well, two constants.

"Lazy," I accused.

Two-Bit opened his mouth to reply, but Darry's voice beat him to it. "He wouldn't be Two-Bit if he wasn't."

I turned towards Darry and smiled. He was drying his hands on a tea towel and he looked pretty domestic. Don't let that fool you, Darry hadn't changed much since…well, I guess I was the only one of us who was still a kid when we first met, but you get my drift. Darry still looked like he was older in spirit and mind than body. He was older – at least 25 now – and looked like he'd make a good catch for the right girl when he was ready to settle down. Sure, he wasn't my type, but I wasn't blind either. All the Curtis boys came from good stock…

"Hi Darry, how are you?" I asked, walking over so I could hug him.

"Oh, so he gets a hug without having to ask. I can see how things are," Two-Bit pouted.

"He didn't distract me with a running commentary about every random thing he could think of," I pointed out.

"Wouldn't be the first time his mouth has gotten him into trouble," Darry pointed out.

"I can't wait for Pony to get home," Two-Bit stated.

"You don't think he would help us gang up on you?" I asked.

"You never know. Better odds on him than Steve," Two-Bit pointed out with a shrug.

He did have a point there…

"C'mon, I'll help you get settled," Darry offered, tossing his tea towel into the kitchen so he could pick up the bags Two-Bit had discarded.

"Sure."

I followed Darry down the hall to the room across from Ponyboy's. Pony had randomly told me once that it was Darry's before their parents died and he moved into their room at the end of the hall. It only took one look into the room to figure out why. There was a double bed wedged against the far wall with a nightstand and a closet half blocked by the only dresser in the room. To say it was cramped was an accurate description, if modest. But picture Darry in that room and it is closer to shoving a cat into a mouse hole.

"I know it's small," Darry started but I waved him off.

"It'll be fine for the summer," I told him. "And I can't complain about the company."

He nodded and slid the closet door open with a squeak as far as it would go to reveal ten hangers and a few stacks of boxes.

"So…When will Pony be home? He's in university, right?" I asked.

Darry nodded. "We call it college here."

"Good to know."

"He has some paper he's got an extension on until the 7th or 8th."

"Wow," I replied, setting my suitcases on the bed so I could unpack. "Good for him."

"Think you'll get cold?" Darry asked, tossing my red sleeping bag into the corner.

"No, I'm just attached to it. It adds color to the room, anyway," I told him, pretty sure Darry wouldn't care either way if there were color in the room or not.

Heck, color was probably the last thing he would think of when he was putting a room together. That was just his practicality kicking in. I admired him for that since I had none of my own.

"Wow," Two-Bit whistled. "You've only been here ten minutes and the room is full."

"Well, that's mostly because there are already two of us in here," I pointed out needlessly.

"That'll do it," Two-Bit said, flopping down on the bed beside my backpack.

"Well, if Two-Bit's going to be in here to help you, I need to get to the store for dinner," Darry said, setting my art box down.

"No problem, Dar. I can baby sit for an hour," Two-Bit assured him, rummaging through my bag.

"Ditto," I said and Two-Bit smiled at me.

With Darry gone and Two-Bit filling in, things went a lot more slowly than you would think. Every time that I put something away, Two-Bit had it messed up again a minute later. Unpacking took a lot longer than I would have hoped.

It got to the point where I made him sit in the hallway. Not that that stopped the chatter, but it was an improvement on the unpacking situation.

"…And then Rachel finally figured out that if we put a tie on the doors, we could keep the rug rat out from under the sink," Two-Bit ended another story.

"Wow, Two-Bit. You sound completely dad-ified," I pointed out.

"What do you mean 'Dad-ified'?" Two-Bit asked, looking around the doorway.

"I mean you've been domesticated to hair braiding, safety proofing, dress buying, and all that cutesy dad stuff," I told him. "What are you doing?"

His face was covered in white foam. He looked practically rabid.

Two-Bit frowned and then smiled. "Getting rid of the dead mouse."

"Uh huh…" I shook my head. "Well, good luck when Darry finds out you're using his razor."

"I'm not afraid of Darry."

"Good for you," I told him. "Braver men have probably never said those words."

"So…you think I'm dad-ified, you should see Tim."

"Tim? As in Shepard, Tim?" I asked and Two-Bit nodded.

"Tim has a little girl of his own now," Two-Bit explained.

"And he's dad-ified?" I asked and he nodded. "How?"

"Well, he hasn't been in prison since he found out about her. He holds a job and keeps up with the bills – amazingly."

"If you're having me on…"

"I'm not, I promise. Ask Darry if you don't believe me."

"But why? I mean, it's not like he's the paternal type."

"Well, the girl he got knocked up decided to get rid of the kid and that got Tim pissed since he doesn't think a kid should end up someplace like that. I think he's trying to show up his pop. If it'll last is the question." Two-Bit shrugged. "But for now, Tim holds the dad crown."

"I expected him to be dead or in jail by now."

"You're not the only one," Two-Bit sighed. "But he's a better parent than most give him credit for. I mean, he did help raise Angela and Curly after his dad took off. He's doing better than Angela at any rate."

I winced. I'd only ever met Tim's sister once. She was yelling at her two kids with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and sunglasses over her eyes to help the hangover. That was all from passing her on the street two years ago. I couldn't imagine knowing her.

"How's the unpacking going?" Darry asked, popping his head through the door and Two-Bit jumped slightly.

"Almost done," I told him.

"Good. Come and take a dinner break," he suggested. "And make sure you wash your face and my razor before you join us, Two-Bit."

"I'll get right on that. But you have to admit, I look better without the mustache!"

"That's why I'm not mad about the razor," Darry replied.

"Wait…Dinner? What time is it?"

"Six," Darry answered. "You really got into this whole unpacking thing."

I looked around and nodded. I had a couple posters up on the walls, all the clothes I had were either in the dresser or the closet, I had framed pictures on the night stand, make up on the dresser, paints in the corner by the window, my sleeping bag laid out on the bed and a bag of toiletries sitting by the door for the bathroom. I was nearly done, but I could see how someone would think I was long moved in and comfortable here.

"So, is Steve here?" I asked and Darry shook his head.

"No, I don't expect him before seven, but I'm not holding dinner on him. He can eat when he gets here," Darry replied.

"How often does Steve come over?" I asked, following Darry down the hall.

"Once a week or so. He really doesn't have much of a reason to pop by these days," Darry told me with a shrug.

I nodded, wondering if Darry was ever lonely with Pony gone and Soda…Then there was Two-Bit having a family. I don't imagine he had a lot of visitors these days. Maybe Steve wasn't trying to get rid of me, more like finding me someone to hang out with who probably needed company too.

We both entered the kitchen when a yelp came from the bathroom. I spun around and waited as Two-Bit cursed and banged about. A minute later he was standing in the doorway of the kitchen with his face cleanly shaven and red from the razor. He grinned and met Darry's look with a shrug.

"In the future, remind me to just say 'no' to aftershave."

I chuckled and sat down at the table in the seat I usually found myself in when I visited Darry. Two-Bit sat down on the other side and Darry took his place at the head of the table.

As soon as the meal was done, Two-Bit took off like a shot. Darry just shrugged and explained that Rachel had dinner at home waiting for him. Apparently she was still a really bad cook if Two-Bit was eating pre-dinners just so he could get through the real dinner. But by the same gesture, she must have had a good hold on Two-Bit if he would ignore his stomach for her.

After dinner, Darry and I did up the dishes and went into the living room to relax. Darry wasn't the kind to make up chatter to fill a quiet room and I enjoyed that. He was comfortable and I was comfortable, so why ruin that? He eventually did get up and turn the radio on quietly before picking up a book from the coffee table. I picked through the stack of books by the couch and wondered if Ponyboy ever bothered to return books to the library. Most of them had Will Rogers's stamps on them. I finally decided on one full of WWII era speeches and settled down on the couch.

"I never could get into books very often," Darry said out of the blue and I listened. "But since Pony's been gone, it's been easier to read his books. Kind of makes it like he is here some nights."

"I can see that," I told him with a nod. "It probably gets really quiet around here."

"Sometimes," he agreed.

"Well, with Becca around you can kiss quiet goodbye."

"Steve!" I squeaked.

Steve let the door close behind him and I was over there in a shot to wrap my arms around him. He was thicker than the last time I saw him, so I assumed he was eating more. Good. Skin and bones was not an attractive look on him. He was still taller than me and his hair was messy from the wind. His blue eyes were happy, though. That was the biggest change with him.

"Hi, Brat," he greeted. "Sorry about the mix up."

"It's fine," I assured him. "Let's go into the kitchen so you can eat while we talk."

"Thanks," Steve looked relieved. I guess he was hungry or something.

With a shrug, I looked over at where Darry was lost in his book and followed Steve into the kitchen. Darry had made up some fried chicken and potatoes. It wasn't a favorite of mine, but Steve seemed to be a fan of anything doused in gravy, so he was eating before his butt hit the chair.

I leaned on the table and watched until Steve sent me a look that basically told me I was being strange, again. I smiled at him and sat back in my chair to give him a little more space.

"So...how was work?" I asked.

"Work," he replied. "But that's not what you want to ask me."

"You know me too well," I told him with a nod. "You told me you'd tell me what I was doing here when I got here and I've been here for about 7 hours now."

"I'm surprised you got that all in one breath, Brat."

"Steve…" I was close to whining.

"Can I finish this before I tell you?" he asked, motioning to his dinner.

"Sure," I said, slumping into the chair. "Not like I haven't been waiting two weeks and 7 hours already."

"Exactly."

I rolled my eyes. Even when Steve had changed, he hadn't changed at all. He was 22 now, holding a job, taking care of himself…and still keeping a secret. C'mon! How long does it take a body to eat a plate of food?

"Becca?"

"Yeah?"

"Glaring at my dinner isn't going to help me eat it any faster," Steve pointed out and I sighed, leaning on my arm so I could glare at something else.

Finally, Steve declared he was done and sat down across from me at the table.

"Are you going to tell me now?" I asked, sitting forward in my chair.

"Yeah." He smiled. "I should have told you over the phone –"

"Uh…you think?" I asked and he ignored me.

"But I wanted to tell you in person – "

"Obviously."

"Becca," Steve paused.

"You're killing me, Steve," I groaned.

"I'm getting married."

And it was right about there that I was rendered completely speechless.

* * *

Ok, next chapter hopefully coming soon! Special thanks, as always, to Zickachik who is awesome. 

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, this has been coming to me like mad. This, and other things. So hopefully the drought is over on the whole updating thing...yeah...So hopefully you will all enjoy that since it is energizing me! In the words of Chronic Sarcasm: Go Tens!

Anyways, thanks to Zickachik who is a great beta, even when her boss is being an asshat. We both deserve the weekend!

Oh, and Happy Hallmark Endorsed Holiday!

On with the show...

Chapter 3

"_Journal entry, June 2__nd__ 1971 – Steve is getting married. Steve. Married. I'm still in shock and he told me yesterday. I nearly swallowed my tongue in surprise. I mean, yeah, Steve has the right to marry, and he seems happy and excited about it. The thing that I'm stuck on is the fact he didn't even mention a girl friend over the last year – they've been dating that long. I tell him everything and yet…I __guess I__ forgot Steve was Steve..." _

I sighed over my coffee and set my pen down. Yes, Steve was really getting married. Her name was Meredith McCauley and Steve was crazy about her. Oh, he didn't say that – he didn't have to. I remember how he was with Evie back when he was seventeen and this was something else completely. They met randomly at a bar and hit it off, starteddating the next week and living together three months later. I was tempted to ask if she was pregnant, but I was sure Steve would have mentioned that. Now that we were face-to-face, he was all right to tell me more than, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

The wedding was set for July 17th. That meant I had over a month to try and get to know the bride and help set up however I could. I could tell Steve wanted me around, but I was sure I was just going to get in the way more often than not. I mean, there was a reason why Steve hadn't invited me to stay with him, besides the fact Darry was secretly lonely. Two women getting to know each other through one man shouldn't ever share a living space – it's like two combustible elements. But still, I had plans on seeing Steve as often as possible. I was his cousin, he was mine first, and she was just going to marry him.

I knew I was pouting, but with the house all to myself, I didn't really care. Darry worked all day, Ponyboy was at school for another week or something, and both Two-Bit and Steve were grown-ups with jobs now. I never felt more left behind than I did right about…. two hours ago when Darry left for work. I'd talked Darry into letting me pay for the groceries in lieu of rent, so I did have a run to the store to look forward to later on. That would have to wait until Darry got home, too, since I didn't have a vehicle. Needless to say, I was going to get a lot of painting done if I was going to be cooped up in this house all day on my own.

Well, at least that was the plan before Two-Bit blew in like a hurricane…

"Becca!" he hollered, the door banging shut behind him.

"In the kitchen," I called back. "I thought you were at work?"

"I was," he answered, coming into the kitchen with a little girl in his arms and at least two travel bags.

"No."

"C'mon, Beckers. Please? The sitter called me at the station since she had to go to the hospital."

"No."

"I've got to work, Rachel has to work, everyone else I know is working. Please?"

"No."

"She's really good!" he told me. "She naps all afternoon and you just have to feed her and make sure she doesn't have accidents all over the place."

"You're making her sound like a puppy," I commented.

"But she can talk and tell you what's wrong. It'll be easy. Please, Becca?"

He was holding the kid out to me, looking pathetic. I sighed to tell him no, again, but he translated it to 'yes' and shoved the kid at me.

"Great! Everything she needs is in the bag by the door. She likes toys and TV and she really likes doors, so you should watch that," he told me. "Nap time is at 2. Until then, snack and lunch should keep her busy."

"Two-Bit –"

"Now, you be good for your Aunty Becca, Chrissy!" Two-Bit said to the little girl. "Thanks a lot, Beckers! I'll be back later!"

And just like that, I ended up with something to occupy more of my time than I had bargained for. I glanced down at where this two year old was looking back up at me with grey eyes and a chubby face framed by dark curls. We studied each other for a moment and she frowned at me.

"Hi," I offered. "I'm Becca."

And boy, was that the wrong thing to say. She opened her mouth and started wailing for her daddy. I was never any good with kids and I would have told Two-Bit that if he had have stuck around to hear it. I don't particularly think he cared if I was good or not. I was a body and a body was what he needed. Add on the fact thatI'm a girl who is supposed to have natural instincts and I could see where Two-Bit had been going with this. Unfortunately, all kids screamed when they got handed to me. Bobby had twins and that meant double the screaming. He'd declared I was an oddity of the female race and I haven't had to hold a kid since. That was three years ago. Even my own nephews couldn't stand me. What was I supposed to do with a kid I didn't even know?

"Hey, it's alright. He'll be back," I assured her and she only increased the volume of her crying.

And that was life for the next twenty minutes. I cuddled her, assured her, sang to her, turned on the TV, walked around, let her walk around. And nothing, nada, zilch, zip. She was having none of this "Aunt Becca" business. She finally stopped and stared out the window for a while before falling asleep on the couch. It was only 1:00, but I figured that was close enough to 2:00 that it didn't matter.

I relaxed into the armchair with my journal and flinched every time she shifted in her sleep or there was a noise I thought might wake her. I hoped she would just sleep until Two-Bit got here. He didn't even mention when he would be here.

It was nearly three when the phone rang. I jumped three feet and raced to get it before the second ring.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"How're things going?"

"Two-Bit Mathews, when you get home, I'm going to slit you from nuts to navel," I told him, repeating a saying I'd heard some guy in a biker movie use.

"That well, huh?"

"Kids hate me. They scream," I told him. "Yours is no exception!"

"Did she go down for her nap?" Two-Bit asked and I sighed.

"Yeah, she's sleeping right now."

"Then you're doing fine. When she gets up, make sure she takes a trip to the bathroom and then get her to eat something and she'll love you!"

"I doubt that."

"Shoot, I've gotta run. You're doing great!"

"Thanks," I said, hanging up the phone because Two-Bit was already gone.

I turned back towards the couch and froze when two gray eyes looked back at me. She was rubbing at them sleepily and still looked miserable. I smiled at her and her lip wobbled, so I stopped that before I really got going and laughed or something…

What's more was she wouldn't eat for me period. She wouldn't watch the TV or even play with the doors. I was pretty sure she was an all around miserable kid when I was proven wrong.

It was 4:30 and she was looking out the window when she climbed down from the couch to go stand in front of the door. It opened a minute later – just missing her – and Darry paused, looking down – surprised.

"Darony!" Chrissy declared, holding her arms up to him.

"What are you doing over here?" he asked, picking her up and looking over at where I had the living room in a shambles. "Do I have to ask?"

"I reallywish you wouldn't," I replied and he smirked a little.

"Hey, Sprout. You hungry?" he asked and the dark curls bobbed.

"Yeah."

"Well, why don't you watch TV with Becca while I make some food?"

"No!" was the loud answer right in his ear. Take that. "Go with Darony!"

"Alright. You come help me then."

And with that, all my problems were solved. For the first time since Two-Bit showed up, I felt confident and relieved. So naturally, I darted down the hall and flopped down on my bed to regroup. Darry made it look natural and he had no kids period. I was a girl and I was absolutely useless. Man, he made me look really terrible and he'd only been home ten minutes at the most.

I finally got myself together and went back to the living room where the mess had been cleaned and Chrissy was sitting in Darry's lap with a book and a cookie in her fist.

"'Dat the Bearses house," she told him, pointing to the book and smearing cookie all over it.

"How many bears live there?" Darry asked, looking like he was going to fall asleep.

"Free!" she told him happily.

"Hey, I can get started on dinner, if you want?" I offered and Darry nodded, while Chrissy gaped at me.

"There's some ground beef in the fridge," he told me and I ran with it, happy that I wasn't the one with the book and the kid in my lap.

It was nearly ready when Steve came in through the back door. I glanced at him before I went back to cooking. Steve frowned and hopped up on the counter by the sink.

"You mad at me or something?" he asked and I sighed.

"No, not really," I told him. "It was a long day. Last time I was in Tulsa, I was actually useful beyond kid sitting all day and before that I just went to work with you and thought I was useful."

"Wait. Kid sitting?" he asked and I nodded.

There was a happy squeal from the living room and Steve nodded to himself. "I see."

"What you don't see is the crying and the screaming all day long," I told him.

"She pretty much likes everyone," he informed me and I glared at him.

"Kids hate me! I wrote you about Bobby's twins!" I hissed at him and he merely observed me like I was telling him old news.

"So?"

"So? What do you mean, so?" I asked.

"So…obviously I'm not saying anything helpful, so I'm just going to shut up now."

I sighed and turned back to dinner. I'd only been here a day and I was fighting with Steve. I didn't want to fight with Steve.

"How was work?" I asked.

"Work," he said with a shrug. "We're pretty slow after that red mustang got shipped out yesterday."

"Maybe I'll have to come and visit at some point," I suggested and he shrugged.

"We're pretty well down town," he told me. "You'd have to have Darry drop you off."

"Isn't it out of his way?" I asked and Steve shrugged.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind. When Pony gets home, he'll probably drive you anywhere you want. He has a car so he can come back for the summers and commute back from Edmond."

"I thought he was in Oklahoma City?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Pretty close."

I shook my head. So Ponyboy Curtis had a car. That would have impressed me when I was 16…Now; I was going to exploit the hell out of it.

"Hey Steve? Do you ever think about having kids?"

"Well, this is certainly not a conversation I thought I would be having with my cousin of all people, but maybe someday." He shrugged. "Not anytime soon. You know how my folks were."

I did know how Tony and Laurie were. They got married right out of high school because Steve was on the way. They hated each other for it every day after that and it did have a lasting affect on Steve. I was glad Tony was dead and Laurie had moved out of town. I doubt Steve would be doing half as well if they were still around to drag him down.

"Yeah. I get that."

Mine were the same way. They went their separate ways when I was young and Bobby ended up out in the mountains with Dad and I was at home with Mom and her fashion metropolis in Toronto. Then Mark Randle came into the picture and here I was just over five years later with Steve as my cousin.

"So, when do I get to meet the bride?" I asked and Steve frowned, thinking on it.

"Well, she's out of town until the tenth," he told me. "But I'm pretty sure you met her before."

"When?" I asked, trying to think of any Merediths I knew.

"Well, I didn't know this when I met her, but her dad is involved with a bunch of oil infrastructures. Mark is a friend of her dad's, since he designed their head office. In fact, I think you drew the outside concept from Mark's blueprints."

"Steve, I barely remember what I had for breakfast," I told him. "What was the company?"

"Some oil company. Big something." He shrugged.

"Big Diamond Oil?" I asked and he nodded. "Steve, there were at least five girls I met while we were drawing that building."

"She was probably one of them." He shrugged again.

I shook my head. That was a typical Steve answer. I let it go and finished cooking dinner. I figured Sloppy Joes were a good choice. Darry wasn't real specific when he said there was ground beef in the fridge.

Steve made himself useful by buttering bread and by the time everything was set out on the table there was a delighted squeal and I wasn't surprised to hear Two-Bit's voice.

"Hey Becca! Thanks a lot for looking after the munchkin," Two-Bit's voice called into the room a few minutes later.

"Never again," I told him, happy to see he was kid free while we had this conversation. "Kids hate me. I have a headache the size of Ontario from all the screaming."

"Wow, that's tough. What's for dinner?" he asked and I glared at him.

"I'm not feeding you," I told him evenly.

"C'mon, Beckers. I'm going to waste away to nothing," Two-Bit pouted.

"I doubt that."

"I have a wife to go home to," he pleaded. "Have a heart!"

I turned away so I wouldn't smile at him. I hated it when he made me smile and I didn't want to.

"Maybe just for one sandwich?" Steve bartered and I sighed, and then gave in.

"One sandwich."

"See, you're a doll," Two-Bit told me, coming over so he could lay a kiss on my cheek.

"You're married," I accused, shoving him away.

"And you're Steve's cousin from Canada. That makes you practically family." He shrugged. "Man, that smells good! Did you use ketchup?"

Steve and I exchanged an eye roll. It was going to be a long summer.

* * *

Ok, more soon! Now, to turn my attention to the other 20 odd stories...

Any comments at all are welcome and Flames are accepted!

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik


	4. Chapter 4

Now, this is a total filler chapter and I hate it, but hopefully you all will enjoy it. Thanks to Zickachik for making it make some sense.

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the show.

I honestly wasn't surprised when I woke up to the sound of a little person giggling. This made day three of "The Wild Adventures of Becca the Bad Babysitter." I groaned into my pillow and denied that it was going to be another day from hell for a few minutes before finally sitting up and glaring at the door. I was going to really hurt Two-Bit.

Pushing my blonde hair out of my face, I reached for the journal on the table beside the bed and flipped it open to the next page.

"_Journal entry, June 5__th__1971. From the sounds of life in the house, Two-Bit is not long for this world. I have serious issues with him at the moment. I've decided to confront him tonight, not letting go of his kid until he explains to me why exactly he is making me kid-sit instead of calling a service or taking time off work. In other news, Steve and I are going out tonight. It's Friday night, so I assume we'll have some fun. Maybe we can even talk Darry into coming along. I don't want to leave him here all alone. That reminds me, I need some alone time to doll up my nails before Steve gets here. Twenty four hours in the day and it never seems like enough…"_

I sighed, setting it aside. My journal entries were much more entertaining when I was obsessed with Star Trek. But now I was working to write everything down so I could leave a legacy, not entertain my grandkids. That being said, if one took a close look in my closet at home, they would find that same poster of William Shatner that I brought with me on my first trip to Tulsa taped to the back of it. What? He was still good looking and still my hero of choice. I just didn't flaunt it as much now that I was supposed to be grown up and all that.

It took me a few more minutes to get enough courage up to get out of bed. Darry was busy trying to get ready for work while Chrissy trailed after him babbling. She looked over at me, the smile slipping from her face, but at least she didn't scream at me anymore. No, she'd decided I would suffer more if she put on her personal production of the terrible-twos. She snapped at me, threw things, ordered, and basically, was terrible. I figured that either she'd get over it sooner or later, hopefully sooner.

"There's coffee in the kitchen," Darry offered and I accepted with a nod.

"Thanks," I replied. "How long has she been here?"

To avoid me, Two-Bit had taken to dropping her off before I was out of bed. Like I wrote, he was not long for this world.

"About twenty minutes." Darry shrugged. "I figured you'd appreciate the sleep."

"I did. Thank you."

He turned to where Chrissy was hiding behind his legs and ruffled her curls, causing another round of giggles. I groaned and shuffled to the coffee pot, pouring that life-giving brew. I stood there drinking the first of what I was sure would be many cups, stalling going back in there.

Darry was pulling his jacket on when I finally did walk back in there. Chrissy was busy with a toy and he was using the distraction to leave.

"Good luck," he told me and I nodded.

"I'll need it."

It was two minutes later that Chrissy figured out he was gone and started throwing a fit, yelling for "Darony". I was going to have to ask Darry what that was about at one point, but right now it was just Chrissy and me. Someone out there really didn't like me.

"Hey Chrissy, after I have some breakfast, we'll go to the park. You'll like that," I added, hoping she would.

I got ignored, of course, the yelling for Darry picking up a notch. I sighed. Oh yes, it was going to be a very long day.

The park was somewhere I didn't really want to go. I knew exactly what had happened there back in '66 when Johnny and Pony got into trouble. Needless to say, I didn't go anywhere near the fountain. Chrissy ran round, picking up leaves and sticks when she found them and throwing them up into the air. She was filthy in ten seconds flat. How did kids manage that? I found a bench and let her run around for about fifteen minutes before I was completely bored out of my mind.

"Emily! Stop shoving that in your mouth!"

I glanced around, expecting to see a portly househusband with three kids harrying him. Not that the voice sounded portly. In fact I swore I knew it from somewhere. I guess that made sense since it was Tim Shepard I saw bent over a kid sitting in the sandbox. I was pretty well floored. Of course, Two-Bit had told me what was going on, but to actually see Tim in his daddy role…I mean, it was Tim Shepard. I probably would have been less surprised if he looked like he'd changed. Instead, I was flung back five years to when I first met him, his hair still slicked back, looking like he was as out of place in the domestic setting of the park as a handgun in a church, but holding himself like he was still king of the jungle even if no one was watching. This was the guy who had managed to hit on me right under Steve's disapproving glare and on more than one occasion, at that. Steve said it was because he had no morals or standards. Well, now he had twenty pounds of hissy fit on his hands. The universe was just in its punishments sometimes.

"Hi, Tim," I offered as Chrissy squealed and climbed into the sandbox a minute later.

"Randle," he offered, looking me over. "You grew up."

"It's Brandt and you know it, but thank you,"' I replied, sitting down beside him on the edge of the sandbox.

"That your kid?" he asked and I shook my head.

"God, no. Two-Bit is to blame for that one. I'm just the babysitter."

"The one eating the cat shit is mine," Tim offered, reaching to grab it away from his very blonde daughter.

"So I heard. Congratulations, Daddy."

Tim ignored me, choosing to watch as Chrissy and Emily played in the sand. "Steve having another crisis?"

I sighed. Yeah, that was the reason I always rolled into town.

"Yeah, the worst one yet – he's getting married."

"Married, huh?" Tim asked, not at all sounding interested.

"I'm Steve's family and he didn't tell me until I got here. You don't do that to family," I huffed. "And now I am stuck with Bratzilla. What a wonderful vacation this has turned out to be"

"Could be worse, Randle. At least she goes home at the end of the day."

"Yeah, I guess. I just thought I was more important or something…and you're not listening."

"Nope."

"How're things for you?" I asked and he shrugged, tapping a cigarette out from the pack rolled in the arm of his t-shirt.

"Not so bad." He didn't elaborate. Yeah, same old Tim.

"You still dealing?" I asked, watching as he smirked and studied me out of the corner of his eye.

Back when Steve got back from Vietnam, he'd gone to Tim when he needed his fix, which was pretty much daily. Tim had made a pretty penny off Steve and once Steve was in the hole with Tim, I ended up forking out the cash to get them square again. I'd gone and confronted him for it and I swear I had bruises with his fingerprints on my arm for weeks. I'd learned a lesson that day. You didn't tell the dealer to stop; you made the addict stop. I was stupid to go and confront Tim on my own like that. Lord, I was a dumb kid. I'm surprised I'm even alive having a civil conversation with Tim Shepard of all people after the stupid things I had yelled at him. By all rights, I should have been scared shitless of him, even if it was only a couple good bruises. I guess I would have been if he'd actually hurt me. As it was, Tim just intimidated me, even with a drooling baby in his care.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

I shrugged. "I guess I don't."

"You know Steve won't even take cigarettes from me anymore, let alone anything that would get him in shit with you. I should be pissed at you for ruining a big chunk of my business."

I smiled warmly at him as he struck a match and cursed. I watched as he reached to where his daughter had yet again managed to find a chunk of poop in the box. I frowned at Chrissy, wondering if she should be playing in there, either. She wasn't my kid, so I shrugged and wiped my hands on my shorts, hoping I had nothing on them. It would serve Two-Bit right if she got sick on the bad babysitter's watch.

"You just come over here to bug me or was there something you wanted?" Tim asked and I shrugged.

"Sorry, Tim. Just had to see it for my own eyes." I smirked, picking a kicking and shrieking Chrissy up out of the sandbox.

"I bet you did," he commented and I smirked a little wider.

"I'll see ya around, Tim. C'mon, Chrissy. Lunch and then nap time."

It sounded simple enough, huh? Well, nothing was simple with Chrissy. She was a royal pain in the ass and she was only two years old. Don't get me wrong; Chrissy was in a better mood since the first day I'd been cursed with her. For the most part, she played with her toys and as long as we ignored each other things went peacefully, but she wouldn't have been Two-Bit's kid if she let things go without a hitch.

Lunch was a perfect example. Every day, she either refused to eat or she played with her food. Today, she was actually coming calmly over to the table when I called her. I frowned at the toy in each hand.

"Let's put these down," I suggested, bending down to her level to take them.

"No!" She shouted right in my face. "Mine!"

"Well, that's new," I muttered, rubbing at my abused left ear. "C'mon, Chrissy. They'll be right on that chair, promise."

"No! Mine! Not yours!" she howled as I wrestled one away from her. "Give back!"

I sighed, figuring I was doing well enough just getting her to come to the table. I put the toy down and took my seat, watching as she gave me dirty looks and climbed up into the booster seat that had mysteriously appeared on day two. She eyed me suspiciously before setting one toy down on the far side of her plate and clutching the other. I pretended to ignore it as she reached for the cut up sandwich with fingers I had attempted to wash earlier. Hopefully as soon as she was full, she would find a place to curl up and sleep until Darry was home. I felt bad for the guy since he did hard work all day only to have a kid demanding his attention when he came home. On the plus side, she was out of my hair and I always ended up cooking dinner so he didn't have to.

I sighed a little, wondering if it was worth it. I mean, I came down here to help Steve and so far I had only managed to help out Two-Bit. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to be here for Steve. He was my family and he was getting married, but I had a month to kill. I had four or five design concepts to work on for Mark this summer, if I ever got around to them. I would have had more time with the plans I had before Steve called. Since Bobby was busy with the twins, I was going to go out and help out Dad on the dude ranch he and Bobby ran, but Steve called and Steve was my priority. He had been since we spent that first summer together. It just went to show how strange our relationship was.

"Done!" Chrissy announced, completely interrupting my musings.

I sighed and reached for her fingers before she could run off and paint Darry's walls with raspberry jam and peanut butter.

It seemed like five o'clock would never come, but like all things, it finally arrived. Darry strolled through the door promptly at five, Chrissy was all over him in less than a minute, and I started dinner roughly five minutes after that.

"Hey. Why are you doing cooking dinner?"

I turned and glanced at Steve, shrugging. "Darry's watching Chrissy, so it's a fair trade."

"Yeah, but I thought I told you we were going out tonight?" Steve sounded more exasperated than confused.

"We are. And we're dragging Darry with us, but for right now, I'm cooking. We'll eat here and save some money," I explained. "Plus, I want to have a chat with Two-Bit when he gets here."

"About what?"

"Where have you been for the last three days? I'm babysitting for him and I'm kinda tired of it."

Steve shrugged in that annoying way of his. The motion basically said: "Yeah, I noticed. So what?" As much as I loved Steve, I wanted to throttle him sometimes.

"You know what, never mind. Can you do me a favor?"

"Depends on the favor," Steve replied and I rolled my eyes.

"Just keep a look out for Two-Bit, will ya?" I sighed. "I really do need to talk to him."

Of course, he knew this, so he ran out of here every evening before I got my chance. I honestly wondered what all that was about, but this was Two-Bit. He could think this was all some elaborate prank or something.

"Sure," Steve said with a shrug and headed towards the living room.

I noticed he was wearing the nice blue button up I had sent him for his birthday. It was irrational, but I beamed a little and turned back to dinner with a smile. Steve liked my present.

Dinner was on the table before Two-Bit decided to show up, so I didn't object when Darry set Chrissy down at the table. I did mind when he asked her nicely for her toys and she just gave them up without a fight. I swear, that kid was only evil to and around me. Steve sent me a funny look from where he was sitting beside me and I shrugged a little, dropping a glob of mashed potatoes on his plate.

When Two-Bit Mathews did walk in, he didn't look thrilled to see we were all sitting down to supper. I got up and ushered him out of the room with just one look and folded my arms across my chest once we were in the living room.

"Well?" I demanded and he smiled at me.

"Hi Becca. How have things been going?" he asked and I shrugged.

"Well, for being stuck with your kid for three days, I still have my hair."

"Yeah, about that…"

"No."

"C'mon, Becca," Two-Bit half-pleaded. "Just one more day?"

"Ha! You think I'll make it one more day?" I asked and he nodded. "Where did your sitter get to? Is she having an operation in Nunavut or something?"

"No, she's still in town," he replied slowly, like he was thinking on it.

"Then what's going on?"

"She may have…died."

I blinked. Well, that wasn't an answer I was prepared for.

"Died?"

"Yeah, but don't worry, we are looking for someone else," he assured me. Funny, I wasn't all that assured.

"Tomorrow is the last day?" I asked, giving into that pathetically desperate look on his face.

"With any luck…" I glared at him as he trailed off. "But! But Rachel and I have decided we should give her pay to you! Since you're doing her job and all…"

"You were considering not paying me?" I asked and he winced.

"You haven't met my wife. She was kinda figuring since you were a friend and all…" I glared at him again. "No, we were never considering not paying you, honest!"

"You listen to me, Two-Bit Mathews, and you listen good. You are going to find a new sitter as soon as possible, which means you will even be mentioning the position on that radio show of yours tomorrow."

"But –" he tried and I held a finger up for silence.

"And I will be listening in, Two-Bit. You will phone services, do interviews, and put up posters, the whole nine yards. You will find a new nanny. I am not here to be a babysitter to anyone under twenty. Got me?"

"Yeah," Two-Bit answered, nodding his head. "But…you will watch her until I do find someone else, right?"

I sighed. Something told me it was going to be a long search.

* * *

I had a babysitter just up and die on us once. She was really stiff and our uncle really freaked out when he got home. This is why I'm not allowed to talk at family reunions...

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!

Tens & Zickachik


	5. Chapter 5

Well, I'd like to say I've been working on this for a while, but not so much. It hit, it got written, here we are a day later. Thanks to Zickachik for the beta job!

Disclaimer: The usual.

Chapter 5

"_Journal Entry, June 5__th__, Again. Steve has given me ten minutes to look pretty before we leave. I don't know whether to be flattered or annoyed with him at the moment, so I'm writing this quick before he does decide to leave me here. We're dragging Darry out with us and hopefully we'll all have a good time. Against my opinion, Steve invited Two-Bit to meet us there later, in case we need rescuing with Darry. I know what you're thinking. Steve is not the person you would expect Darry to have fun with, or even me for that matter, thus Two-Bit was going to join us later. From what I'd observed in the past, he was the one that Darry connected with the best out of any of us since Soda left. Maybe it was that he was always goofing off too much to be serious about it. I wouldn't know. See, these are the limits I have to work with when I only spend random summers here…"_

"Becca!"

"I'm coming," I hollered.

I closed my journal right where it was and slid it under the pillow, fluffed my hair a bit in the mirror, and adjusted the skirt I had decided to wear. I didn't think anyone was going to go snooping in my journal, but if there was one thing little kids had taught me, it was that removing the temptation was the best prevention. Well, kids and Two-Bit.

Darry and Steve were both waiting in the hall when I popped my head out a minute later. Steve looked annoyed and Darry looked out of place. I kind of blinked. Steve being annoyed was nothing new, but Darry looking out of place in his own home was something new for me. I guess he was just nervous about going out or something. I wondered if he ever went out these days. Steve said he mostly stayed in or worked. Thus, we were taking him out, whether he liked it or not.

"Pretty, Steve?" I asked, turning on the spot.

"Perfect. Let's go"

He didn't even look. I frowned a little, but rolled my eyes and followed Steve anyways. That was Steve-speak for "I don't care, can we get going already?" And believe me, I was more than used to that by now.

Darry followed after me, pausing at the front door like he was thinking about locking it behind him, but in the end he didn't bother to and followed me down to his truck. He'd offered to drive which told me two things – Darry didn't plan on getting drunk and Darry wanted some say in all this. It probably bugged Steve, since he didn't drink at all anymore and would have been fine driving.

There were few bars in Tulsa Steve felt comfortable to frequent, but there was one over on the Ribbon that he seemed to be attached to. I think he called it Frank's or something along those lines. I never did understand how they named places in Tulsa. They were either titled or named like they were your buddies. I just shook my head. We were probably just as bad in Canada. The only bar I went to up there was called Callaghan's Pub. There was bartender in there who was named Callaghan, no relation, but that was beside the point. When this Frank was dead, what were they going to call it then? It wouldn't make any sense.

"Becca," Steve prodded and I glanced up at him "You're thinking too loud. Just try and have a good time."

"Sure," I told him with a smile. "Don't worry about me. It's Darry I want to have a good time."

Steve glanced at where Darry was following us into the bar, looking like he'd rather not be there. I didn't know if it was just us or if he didn't want to be out period, but yet again, that was not the point. The goal was to let Darry have a bit of fun.

"Oh, Look! They have pool tables," I pointed out, probably needlessly. "We should play."

Steve nodded and Darry looked around, putting on that tough face all the boys used when they thought they had to. I did roll my eyes again then. Who did he think we were going to have a problem with here?

"You want a drink?" Steve asked, tossing his coat on the back of a chair.

"Sure. A Coke is fine," I replied and Darry nodded when Steve jutted his chin at him in a manly fashion.

"Do you ever come here?" I asked, sitting down beside Darry.

"Not often. I used to when I was out with my friends. That was back in High School."

"Wow," I replied. "So it must be really different?"

"Not really. Just a different crowd now." Darry shrugged

"Steve likes it," I offered, probably needlessly again. "I'm not sure why. I mean, it looks like every other bar we've ever been to together."

"Well, firstly, the bartender doesn't care what you order," Darry replied. "It's a good place for someone who doesn't drink."

"I never even thought of that."

"Yeah, nothing like a night on the town when you have someone trying to bully you all night."

I was about to open my mouth and ask if Darry thought that was what Steve and I were doing, when Steve was back with three drinks steeple'd between his fingers.

"Three Cokes," he said by way of greeting, setting them down on the table with a slight splash.

"Thanks," I replied, pushing one towards Darry and taking one for myself. "I think this place is nice."

"As far as bars go," Steve offered with a shrug. "I don't mind the crowd."

I had to agree with Steve. Darry said that he'd come here in High School – for what, I don't know since the drinking age was ridiculous down here – but the crowd was more mature now - people in their late twenties or thirties just trying to take a night off after a week of making a living. Even though Steve and Darry were younger than most of the crowd, but they understood where they were coming from and fit in seamlessly. Me? I was probably standing out like a sore thumb. I had a talent of doing that when I was out with Steve.

"So, since we're in a bar not drinking, what should we do?" I asked and Steve shook his head.

"Pool, Darry?" Steve asked. "I'll even it up by having Becca on my side."

"Sure." Darry nodded and I watched the two of them go over to the pool tables.

"Coming, Becca?" Steve asked once he had his cue chalked up, ready to break.

"You call me a handicap and then expect me to come play?" I asked, willing myself not to smile.

"Yeah. So?" Steve replied, actually breaking the balls apart as he replied. "You are a handicap. Why do you think Darry's even playing?"

Darry nodded, not looking offended by what Steve had said. I guess he really wasn't as good as Steve was at pool. I did smile then and shook my head. Same old Steve. He always did just say what he meant, going with it even if someone else could be hurt. It wasn't that he tried to be an ass, but I was sure he came across as one from time to time. His wife was certainly in for an adventure.

Darry won the first game since I managed to completely miss the eight ball on the last shot of the game. Darry grinned and I smiled sheepishly at Steve. He shook his head at me, but at least threw an arm around my shoulders. He didn't like the losing part, but I could tell he was having fun. Darry certainly looked happy about winning. Well, until Two-Bit sauntered over to the table.

"Well, don't you kids look like you're up to some good old wholesome fun?" he asked, helping himself to my drink. "God, Becca. Coke? Live a little."

"Two-Bit, I'm still twenty," I reminded him. "And you owe me another."

"Yeah, yeah. So, what're the teams?" Two-Bit asked, grabbing a cue.

"C'mon, you can be on my team," I offered. "We will get our butts royally whooped, but it'll be fun."

"No faith in your partner?" Two-Bit looked aghast.

"No faith in you would be sending you home to find a new nanny," I reminded and he smirked a little.

"Steve, I blame you for turning our sweet little Canadian into this manipulative woman," Two-Bit jested.

"Yeah, like you didn't help out in that department." Steve lined up for the first shot and sunk a few of the balls.

"I'm not sure I like these teams." Two-Bit frowned.

Darry smirked and I shrugged. We couldn't all be awesome at pool and cards and fixing cars, like Steve. You know, one of these days, I was going to beat Steve at something. Probably by setting a record on losing everything, but one day, I was going to do it. And I was even going to be gracious enough not to bounce around cheering like a lunatic.

As it was, Two-Bit and I did lose miserably, but the pair of us were laughing so hard that it didn't really matter all that much. Steve and Darry were both smirking like they had won a great prize. Eventually, Steve got tired of beating everyone and went back to get everyone some more coke. Darry and Two-Bit retreated back to the table, but I waved them away, intent on getting some more practice in so maybe I wouldn't look like a complete failure the next time we played. I had honestly tried to practice while I was at home in Toronto, but no one I knew was as good a teacher as Steve and everyone else thought it was great to see me lose every time. Even when Steve laughed at me, it never seemed like he was laughing at me, if that made sense.

I shook my head and lined up a shot. Steve always said I had trouble judging the distance and force of the shot. He'd pointed out that if I were a Randle, I would have to worry about depth perception genetically. Well, he was lucky he wasn't a Brandt. We had…really tall men...

"Do you come here often?"

I paused and looked to my right, not expecting to see someone there actually talking to me. But there he was, a guy looking at me with a cheesy line to get things rolling. Though, it seemed like an honest question at the same time, since I did stand out like that sore thumb I mentioned.

"No," I answered. "Only when I visit."

"An out-of-towner?" he looked amused and I rolled my eyes, going back to my shot.

"You could tell," I replied. "The accent isn't hard to miss."

Well, I didn't have an accent, but everyone down here drawled. This guy drawled. It was the noise I had to get used to every time I visited.

"Where are you from then? Probably somewhere out west, like California or Oregon?"

"Have you ever been out there?" I asked and he shook his head. "Neither have I."

He grinned and I had to admit that he was quite handsome in a mischievous way, kind of like Two-Bit and Soda. But if there was one thing I'd picked up from hanging out with Steve, it was that you did not pick up "friends" in bars. After almost being picked up twice by Tim over at Buck's, I was in agreement with him.

"Well, this sounds like it might turn into twenty questions. Can I buy you a drink?"

"No, thank you," I replied, setting my cue down. "I have one waiting on me back at my table."

"Great. We could sit down and get to know each other better. I'm Jace."

He held out his hand and I shook it quickly. "Nice to meet you."

He gave me an odd look, but I was too busy turning away to think about it. Steve glanced up at me when I sauntered back over to the table and pulled up my chair close to his. Two-Bit was busy telling a joke Darry didn't seem to think was particularly funny, so I took a sip of my drink and tried to pay attention to it and not Jace.

Steve nudged me with his elbow and I shrugged, nodding slightly to where Jace was slowly making his way toward our table without being too obvious about it. Steve cocked an eyebrow and looked directly at the guy as he came over to lean on the table.

"Hi, Steve," he offered.

"Hi, Jace. I thought you were working tonight," Steve replied.

"I was, but Terry said he'd hold down the fort," Jace replied, smiling a little at me.

Steve noticed the look and I ducked my head to take another drink of the coke, my left hand playing with a loose curl.

"This is my cousin, Rebecca," Steve introduced. "Then you know Two-Bit and Darry."

"Why, sure we do! We all had him over for dinner last week," Two-Bit rattled off, shaking the guy's hand. "And a few weeks before that, and I think he was around for Christmas and New Years and Memorial Day and a bunch of others I don't remember."

"I remember." Jace nodded with a warm smile. I was surprised he wasn't wincing with how badly Two-Bit was shaking his arm up and down like that.

"Jace," Darry offered and shook his hand.

"C'mon and sit down," Two-Bit ordered, gesturing to the empty chair beside me.

I sent Two-Bit the dirtiest look I could when Jace sat down, touching elbows with me. And damn if there wasn't any room to correct it without tossing Steve off his chair.

"So, Rebecca? Where're you from?" Jace asked, grinning at me.

"Kansas," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"What're you talking about?" Two-Bit asked giving me a funny look. "Beckers here is a special guest for the wedding. She flew in all the way from Tornado, Canada."

"Toronto," I corrected automatically.

"Wow. All for a wedding? You two must be close," Jace offered good-naturedly. I wasn't buying it for a second. He'd know that if he was as close as Two-Bit made him out to be.

"Like Peanut Butter and Jelly." Two-Bit nodded. "Hell, if they weren't cousins by some mid-life crisis marriage…"

Steve and I both threw him dirty looks then. There was no way we could have ever ended up together. Steve was more like my brother and dating your brother…It was one of those moments Two-Bit has that are funny in his head, but not to anyone else.

"Well, maybe not. I guess they would bicker more than they do now if they were married, not that they don't bicker like they're married now, but then they'd really tear into each other and she can be mean…need another drink, anyone? Darry?" Two-Bit asked, trying to pull his foot out of his mouth.

"Becca's is empty," Darry pointed and I nodded, giving Two-Bit the out he so desperately needed. "Becca is only mean to Two-Bit."

"After watching his kid for days on end without pay," I muttered.

"Wow, then I actually think you're justified there. She sure keeps everyone on their toes," Jace offered and I still wasn't buying it.

What? A nice guy in the bar who just happened to know Steve, but opened up with pick up lines? Yeah, there was definitely not anything to like about him, especially the way he just hung around with us all evening until Darry decided we should call it a night so we could actually get some sleep after a long week. Darry did look tired and I was yawning, so no one protested the suggestion.

"So, I'll see ya Tuesday?" Jace asked, shaking Steve's hand goodbye.

"Yeah. Same time as last week." Steve nodded.

"You should bring your cousin so she can see you in action," Jace suggested and Steve nodded.

I knew that nod. It meant that he was just trying to get the guy to leave it for now and he'd make up his mind later. Yeah, that was the kind of Steve-speak I liked. I had no intentions of going and watching Steve with his grease-monkey friends tinkering around with some car. I had spent a whole summer doing that, but Soda was there as a distraction. Now…I dunno, it would be just rude to sit around doing nothing while they were running a business.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Rebecca," Jace offered me his hand and I shook it again with a nod, standing in Darry's shadow like if I was lucky it would just make me disappear.

"Well, I'd better get going, too," Two-Bit sighed like he was about to do up a particularly painful chore. "Gotta get home before the wife and kid start missing me."

"And what would they be missing exactly?" Darry teased, getting a huge grin from Two-Bit in return.

"Tomorrow, pancakes, my place," Two-Bit offered, walking backwards out of the bar with Jace on his heels.

"Tomorrow, my place, edible pancakes," Darry returned and Two-Bit laughed, disappearing out the door.

Steve handed me my jacket and the three of us left the bar, too. As soon as we were in the truck, I turned my attention to Steve.

"Ok. Who is Jace, why was he hanging around like he was part of the family, and why was he playing footsies with me all night?" I asked and Steve blinked.

"He was playing footsies with you?" Steve asked, looking like he didn't approve of that.

"Yes, now answer the questions," I urged him on.

Steve shared a look with Darry before sighing and leaning into the door a little more.

"Jace runs the community center, which means he's in charge of the programs going on there. He was the guy who led my support group and counseling after you made me go," Steve reminded with a nudge. "It's a crap job, but every guy returning home from the war appreciates it. Between the Vet programs and the youth programs, he practically lives at the center. I was real surprised to see him out tonight."

"So he hangs out with you guys? Like part of the family?" I asked and Steve shook his head. Time and time again, Steve would correct me that it wasn't a family; it was a gang. In my mind, family made more sense than gang.

"When he runs into us, we don't turn him away. We even invite him over some times," Steve informed me and Darry nodded. "We're not replacing anyone, if you're worried about that."

I was not worried they were replacing anyone, mainly me – I was irreplaceable. But new people were worrisome.

"As for why he was playing footsies with you, I have no idea. Maybe he's taking some of his own advice and trying to date again." Steve shrugged.

"Trying to date again?" I asked and Steve nodded.

"Yeah, he lost his wife last year. He's been kind of lost since then," Steve explained. "But don't let him fool you. He's a slick card player."

"Yeah," Darry grunted and I wondered how much he'd lost on poker night. "And he's a good cook. I don't mind it when he visits just for the night off."

I would have pointed out that I was doing the cooking, but that would have been a little petty. The last thing I wanted was for Darry and Steve to think that I was jealous of their new friend. As friends went, they could have done worse. And I was glad that they had other people to socialize with. I just didn't like Jace.

"Well, if he's looking for a girlfriend, you should introduce him to someone nicer," I commented.

"Two-Bit didn't mean it when he called you mean." Steve rubbed my shoulder a bit from where his arm was across the seat behind me.

"I know," I told him, and I did, but hearing Steve say it did make me feel better.

By the time we got to Darry's, my head was resting on Steve's shoulder. He nudged me awake and made sure I had my feet before saying goodnight and heading for his car. He had something to do that was work-related tomorrow. Otherwise, I could have convinced him to stay on the couch or even in Pony's bed since he wasn't going to be home for a few more days. At the moment, it didn't matter. I was dead tired, putting one foot in front of the other as I followed Darry into the house. Heck, I was even happy to let him lead the way down the hall.

"Hey, Becca?"

I glanced up from where I was opening my bedroom door and over at where Darry was halfway in his own room.

"Thanks for dragging me out tonight."

"You're sure we didn't push you?" I asked, the worry over that returning with a crash.

"I'm sure. Night."

I returned it and leaned in my doorway for a moment, warm wood pressed between my shoulder blades comfortably. A small smile was on my lips and I let it grow. Darry may not have had fun, but he sounded like he didn't hate it, either. Sometimes it just felt good to know you didn't completely screw up.

* * *

Man, that was a quick chapter. Hopefully the next one will be soon to follow.

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!

Tens & Zickachik


	6. Chapter 6

Alrighty. This one has been done for a few days, but I just haven't remembered to put it up. Hopefully you all enjoy. Thanks to Zickachik for the awesome beta job!

Disclaimer: The usual

Chapter 6

"_Journal Entry, June 8__th__. The most embarrassing, mortifying thing happened this morning, and it wasn't even to me, amazingly. Well, I guess it was involving me, but that's not saying much when you consider it wasn't me. Maybe this is the kind of thing I shouldn't think about anymore…"_

Yeah, if only I could completely erase the image from my mind. Unfortunately, it was a permanent imprint. I'd never had a photographic memory, but this was something worthy of Polaroid, apparently. I shut my journal around the pen I was using and sighed. Maybe if I just took a few minutes and processed it, I could get rid of the image. That meant starting at the beginning. At least that had been perfect…

It was so nice to wake up to the house being still, the birds chirping outside, and the heat picking up even though it was still morning. Rolling over, I glanced at the alarm clock and smiled. It was ten AM and no one had woken me for a demanding two-year old. Darry had to be at work hours ago and no one was expected to visit. It was nice to finally have the house to myself.

I guess I did feel bad about telling Two-Bit off about babysitting, but something good came of it. Mrs. Mathews, as in Two-Bit's mother, seemed appalled that they were looking for someone when she was at home and could watch her only grandchild perfectly well. So, in my way of thinking, not only did I manage to reunite a grandmother with her grandchild, I also solved Two-Bit's money problem. Not that he was getting out of paying me what he owed me, but the situation was better all around at least, since he wouldn't have to pay his mother. I had the feeling he'd get smacked just for offering.

I groaned and stretched so my arms were hanging off the opposite sides of the bed. I suppose I would have laid there all day if my stomach hadn't started talking. Darry and I had gone to the grocery store the day before so I knew exactly what I was having for breakfast – toast smeared with honey. It was a favorite of mine and you could tell that Darry was letting me have my way since I did pay for the groceries. Now, no dirty looks. I got everything he wanted, too.

Shuffling down the hall, I was intent on getting to the kitchen. I guess I should have been paying a little more attention, but this was pre-coffee Becca. I found I didn't notice or learn much until after the jolt of caffeine hit my system. Darry hadn't left any coffee, so I filled the pot, setting it to boil while I searched for the honey. Darry had a strange system when it came to putting things away. You'd think it would be with the peanut butter or something instead of with the canned soups. I hummed happily when I found it and set the container down on the counter.

I was a little more awake now and noticed for the fist time that the shower was running. I frowned, wondering who could be showering when everyone but me was supposed to be at work. I remembered that Darry liked to keep the front door unlocked incase someone needed a place to lay low or something, but did they take showers, too? I shook my head. I'd ask once he – because it was probably a he – got out of the shower.

The shower cut out a minute later and I waited long enough, in my opinion, for whomever it was to dry off before leaving the kitchen. I was barely out of the kitchen when I stopped in my tracks.

Reaching for the top shelf of the linen closet, in all his naked glory, was none other than Ponyboy Curtis. I gaped. He'd hit a growth spurt since I'd last seen him. Not that I'd ever seen this much of him before. He was tall, lean, muscled, and wet. I threw a hand over my eyes and mentally kicked myself for not leaving some clean towels in the bathroom. What? I assumed anyone taking a shower would be smart enough to get a towel first. I decided this was Darry's fault for asking me to put them away last night.

"Oh, God," I groaned, turning away since my fingers weren't doing a very good job hiding anything.

There was a stumbled step and some cursing before the distinct sound of everything in the linen closet, including Pony, thumping to the floor. I turned back to look and smiled. He was buried in every towel and extra blanket they owned now. He blinked at me after making sure that all the important parts were covered up, even though it was a little late for that.

"Becca?" he asked, not sounding like he was completely sure I was who he thought.

His voice was deeper and his eyes were a little greener than the last time I'd seen him. He'd grown more into his looks, less boyish and more like Darry through the jaw, but he was going to be nineteen this summer, so that wasn't so shocking. And he obviously had no qualms about running around the house in his birthday suit. At the thought, I looked down at the floor instead of him

"Hi, Pony."

"God," he sighed, blushing darker than I thought possible. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the wedding." I knew I was blushing something awful, too.

"That's not until July!" he pointed out.

"I always spend the whole summer if I come to visit," I pointed out. "Though, it's usually spent with Steve, but he obviously has a new woman in his life. So here I am."

"Here?" he asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah, Darry has a spare room," I answered, undoubtedly needlessly since Pony lived here and knew there was a spare room. "He didn't tell you?"

"I don't think so, but I was working on this paper and…" he shrugged, picking up one of the towels off the floor and scrubbing his hair with it.

"I should…go check on the …coffee. You know, in the kitchen…" I suggested, stumbling over my words.

He nodded and I disappeared back into the kitchen to find the water was hot enough for the coffee. I could hear Ponyboy getting up and closing a door a moment later. The coffee was ready and I had a stack of toast on the table before Pony popped in, fully clothed. He was still blushing as he sat down at the table and helped himself to some of the toast.

"Coffee?" I asked and he nodded, accepting the cup in front of him.

Neither of us said much after that. What did you say to someone you'd gotten more than a decent look at? And in turn, what did you say to the person who saw every part of you?

"So, college?" I tried and he nodded.

"Yeah. You?"

"Quit when Steve came home, been working for Mark ever since," I replied.

"Good." He nodded.

I sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry about the whole hall thing. Can we just pretend we're ok?"

"Yeah, I guess," he offered with a shrug.

"Good."

_"...Like that worked. We spent the whole day sidestepping each other or sharing the living room in the afternoon. I was hoping Darry would come home from work early just so he could break the tension. I half got my wish…"_

It was around four when I heard a car door close outside and someone coming up the front walk. Pony glanced up from where he was going through some ads in the paper and I set my book down. A moment later, Two-Bit walked in with Chrissy in his arms.

"Darony!" she shouted and I frowned.

"I thought that was Darry's nickname?" I asked as the little girl climbed into Pony's lap, causing the newspaper to flutter to the floor.

"She up and decided one day that saying both 'Darry' and 'Pony' was a waste of time since they live together," Two-Bit offered. "So she put the names together. Dar-ony."

I nodded. Now it made sense. I had no idea what she was saying before.

"She does that a lot. Me and her mom are now 'Maddy', which is a hoot when Rachel is about to blow her top." Two-Bit grinned. "When'd you get in, Ponyboy?"

"Around nine thirty," Pony replied, a slight blush on his cheeks. "I wanted to get settled back in before everyone got here."

"You must have given Beckers here a shock."

We both blushed then. Oh, he'd given me a shock alright, but it was nothing compared to the shock I'd given him. It had taken the pair of us at least twenty minutes to fix the closet again since everything needed to be refolded and the shelf needed to be fixed, too. Ponyboy even had war wounds in the form of three or four splinters I had tried to help him dig out. By the time I had scraped two of them out, Pony decided he'd rather wait on Darry. He was a big baby.

"I'll definitely call first from now on," Pony assured him, making Two-Bit look at the pair of us strangely.

"Beckers didn't hit you with something, did she?" He asked, smirking at the thought. "Because she's mean enough to do it."

"Ass," I accused, getting a wider grin in response.

"No." Pony shook his head, pushing Chrissy's hands away from where she was grabbing at his eyebrows with sticky-looking fingers. "We just surprised each other."

"Yeah, I'll bet you did. So, what're we going to do tonight to celebrate your homecoming for the summer?" Two-Bit asked.

"I'm pretty tired. I was thinking a home cooked-dinner and some time at home with Darry…and Becca, I guess since she lives here." He shrugged. "I figure we can do something bigger on the weekend."

"Damn, and here I thought you college boys were supposed to be wild party-goers." Two-Bit shook his head.

"Not those of us on scholarships," Pony assured him. "We work hard, we show it, and we get to eat occasionally as a reward."

"Kinda sounds like back when Darry was working two jobs." Two-Bit shook his head. "It's always the hard workers who can't get ahead."

"And he finally gets it."

We all looked over at where Darry was standing in the doorway. Pony set Chrissy on the floor before going over to hug his older brother. Darry was smiling like I hadn't seen him do all summer. And even though I had been listening to Darry talk about him all week, I saw in that moment how much he was looking forward to having his family home, even if it was only from an hour's drive away.

"Good to have you home," Darry greeted. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"Well, I got sick of campus food," Pony replied, smiling to match his brother.

"How'd your paper go?" Darry asked and Pony shrugged a little.

"Just another paper, you know? At least sit down before you get into the deep questions."

Darry walked over to sit down in his chair while Pony sat down on the couch with Two-Bit who had his hands full with Chrissy.

"Darony!" Chrissy chirped and he waved at her causing a fit of giggles.

Notice how Becca the ex-babysitter didn't so much as get a sideways look from that kid. I leaned in the doorway of the kitchen, thinking I could probably get dinner ready long before they had all caught up with each other. I shook my head. I had missed this. All that was missing was Steve. Steve was missing a lot these days.

"Kinda like being on the outside looking in, huh?"

I glanced over at where Rachel was standing in the doorway, having come in through the kitchen.

"I like seeing them all like that." I shrugged. "I don't feel left out."

I was Becca and I was irreplaceable – Steve said it himself. I wasn't insecure enough to feel left out because I had nothing to contribute to the conversation. Pony had told me all he could have throughout the day. Listening to it again was just plain boring. That and I really did enjoy watching them all visit.

"Well, then," was Rachel's answer. "As much as I would love to let Keith stay and chat, we have to be going."

"Oh?" I offered.

"Every time I tell him we're having dinner with my mother, he seems to turn up here."

I wanted to chuckle at that. Of course he'd end up here. Mother-in-laws were to be avoided at all costs. It was a rule.

"Good luck." I shook my head.

I decided that dinner really did need to get started and walked over to lean on Darry's chair so I could fiddle with his hair until I had his attention. In retrospect, it wasn't the best plan since he was very sweaty, but the best laid plans, as they say…

"Yes?" Darry finally asked, looking up at me questioningly.

"What would you like for dinner?" I asked.

"There's a chicken in the fridge. If you could fry it up with some mashed potatoes and those canned beans, I think that'll be fine," Darry replied.

I wanted to groan at the meal because I swear, all they ate here was fried food, but I recalled Pony devouring many similar meals. Fried chicken was probably his favorite.

"Oh, and while I have your undivided attention," I added, tugging gently on the strands of hair still in my fingers, "Pony has splinters you should pick out for him and Two-Bit has to go home."

"What?" Two-Bit looked up from where he and Chrissy were "reading" a picture book and caught sight of his wife. "Oh."

"Oh?" Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, giving Two-Bit a look to rival his own raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I just remembered that I have this…thing." He stood up, daughter in his arms.

"Thing?" Rachel asked and Two-Bit slumped a little more.

"Dinner with my Mother-in-law," he sighed.

"Why do you always have to act like its punishment?" Rachel shook her head, leaving through the front door this time.

"Rachel. C'mon, you know I like your mother," he called after her, but she didn't answer. "Well, it looks like dinner with my Medusa-in-law is going to be even more delightful than usual."

"Two-Bit!" I scolded.

"No, he's not joking. His mother-in-law can turn you to stone with a look," Pony offered, looking sincerely sorry for his friend.

"I've gotta run or she's going to run over my foot again. Keep the weekend open! We have some serious partying to do!" Two-Bit pointed at Pony to empathize his point and rushed out the door.

"Well, I've seen whipped before, but that kind of takes the cake." I shrugged. "So one fried chicken, coming up."

_"…I'd like to say that the rest of the evening was thrillingly entertaining, but when is my life ever entertaining or even thrilling? Things did brighten up once Steve called…"_

Pony and Darry were doing the dishes. I don't know what that amused me so much, but it did. Usually I did them while the boys goofed off, but they had insisted that whoever cooked had to leave the dishes for the other two. Sitting around in the living room with the paper while they did the grunt work was something I could definitely get used to. The pans the chicken had cooked in were definitely in need of some serious elbow grease and I was pretty sure the mashed potatoes that overflowed on the stove were never going to come off again. Needless to say, the boys had their work cut out for them.

I guess I was expecting them to do everything because I didn't even move when the phone rang.

"Becca, can you answer that?" Darry hollered and I blinked.

"Me?" I called back.

"Get the phone!"

I jumped up to answer the phone, having no idea what to say. So, like a moron, I blurted out 'hello' in the receiver.

"Now I know why you're not a receptionist."

"Hi Steve!" I chirped into the phone. "Are you coming over?"

"No, I'm working on the books tonight," he replied, a slight sigh in his voice like he didn't want to be doing the books. "I thought I'd call and let you know."

"Oh. Ok," I replied, hoping I didn't sound disappointed. "That's ok. Ponyboy came home today, so we've been kind of busy with him around."

"That's good."

Steve wasn't much for talking on the phone. Steve wasn't much for talking, period, but at least when you could see him you could see what he wasn't saying. Did that make any sense?

"Listen, I have to go."

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked and he sighed again.

"I have my meeting tomorrow night."

I'd almost forgot that Steve met with drug addicts on Tuesday nights. It was the night that he was part of the support group rather than leading it, like he did on Thursdays. The big difference was that the Tuesday meeting was for returning soldiers and the Thursday meetings was for local youth. Steve seemed to connect with them for some reason.

And he says I don't listen to him.

"Are you listening?"

Well, most of the time…

"What? Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I said that if you wanted to come tomorrow night, Jace did invite you along. We can grab a coke afterwards," he offered and I smiled.

"I would love that."

"Good. I'll come for dinner around six. We have to be there before seven. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. See you tomorrow, then."

Steve muttered something before hanging up the phone and I followed suit, still smiling to myself. Even though it had been an…odd start to the day, it had turned out just fine in my opinion.

* * *

Well, one of my personal favorite chapters in this story...

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!

Tens & Zickachik


	7. Chapter 7

Wow. Long time no see on the updating front here. Sorry! I'm back into my lovely school routine which, despite taking up a ton of my time, causes me to work a lot more on my own writing. Gotta do something when my profs are babbling away. Go figure. Special thanks to Zickachik for betaing this for me, since she is the awesome grammar goddess and I still can't use a comma right ;). Now, let's move onto why you actually clicked on the story. Not that I'm not highly interesting and funny...yeah.

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the show!

Chapter 7

"_Journal Entry June 9__th__. Ponyboy is unbelievable. Not that I hadn't thought that before, but this morning he managed to amaze me. Both he and Darry were eating breakfast when I stumbled out for my morning cup of coffee. Both were dressed and looked like they had showered and were ready for the day. I personally think that any time before nine is too early to look so awake, especially when you don't have to go to work. That was where my thinking of Ponyboy as unbelievable came into play. He already had a job when he sat down to breakfast. Apparently he was more than welcome to his job stocking shelves over at the drug store on Pickett. That means I'm all on my own for the day. At least Steve and I have plans tonight. I have never been to one of Steve's counselling sessions before, but I'm sure it will be fine and I will feel completely at ease..."_

"I feel like a moron."

"Well, you did lead Jace on," Steve offered with a shrug, holding the door open for me.

"If you call being a complete jerk to the guy in hopes he would go away 'leading him on' then I have to wonder if you need your eyes checked."

Steve glanced at me but didn't comment. It was something he did when he was trying to avoid getting on my bad side. I frowned at him and followed him through the community centre where the counselling program was. It was a church until the Baptists moved into a bigger building, so there was a large meeting hall that was cleared of the pews and then several smaller rooms. There was even a kitchen and a basketball court outside. I wondered if anyone in Tulsa even played basketball. I smirked to myself, remembering that a Canadian – an Ontarian on top of that – invented the game, but didn't dwell on yet another contribution Canada made to the world.

The building was almost empty, but every man we passed seemed to know Steve and had a greeting for him. The looks they all sent me where what made me uncomfortable. It was like I was an unwelcome observer to their secret man meeting or something. I clutched the tray of chocolate chip cookies and banana bread I had made for the occasion closer to my chest. I know, Darry's mother's platter wasn't going to defend me, but it was an illusion I was holding onto.

"Seriously, Steve; I have no idea what I'm doing here. It feels like there should be a 'boys only – no girls allowed' sign on the front door."

"Women come here. Mostly they show up on the weekends when their kids aren't in school," Steve assured me. "Now, would you stop with the tray? You're going to squish all that bread you spent forever on."

I sighed and lowered my shield. It had taken me forever. First I'd had to get on the phone with my sister in law – Gwen – for the recipe. So I'd had to phone my mom in Toronto to get her phone number and ended up chatting with both my mom and Mark for an hour. Then I had to sit through half an hour of catching up with Gwen before she actually gave me the recipe and it was polite enough to end the conversation. Then there was shopping for everything and finally cooking it. It had literally taken me the entire day – a good distraction when you considered I was all alone in that house and lonely. Plus, I had figured that if I was invited to a meeting, I should at least bring something. These guys had better appreciate the banana bread or I was going to be pretty put out.

There was a side table in the main meeting hall and Steve gestured I should put it down there. There was a large carafe of coffee, mugs, and some stale looking tarts all sitting there already. I glanced at my tray, pleased that it was the most appetizing thing there. I didn't put it down just yet, not ready to relinquish the only excuse I really had for being there. Steve looked at me critically and I looked back, wondering what he was thinking. I was wondering what I was thinking. I had no business here, baking or no baking.

"I'm going to go and talk to some people until we start. When we do, I suggest you try not to look like you're listening in or maybe you should just leave the room."

"Why?" I asked and Steve looked like he might be on the verge of an actual blush. I doubted he even knew how.

"Some of the older guys think women need to be protected, so they won't open up if you're there. The younger guys follow their example. That's the fastest way to shut these guys down."

Steve had told me I should bring something to do, so I had my journal in my coat to keep me occupied. That was another thing to add onto the list of reasons why I shouldn't be here. I couldn't participate at all and I couldn't really interact with these men, so I was basically a fly on the wall. Now I was probably going to end up sitting in the hallway like some school child who back talked the teacher. And before you ask, I only corrected my teacher once or twice before I caught onto the hall punishment and just shut my trap.

"Alright. I'll just stay over here and let you have your little powwow," I assured him.

"Just try not to break anything."

"God," I muttered. "You trip once into the family Christmas tree..."

"Or drop an arm load of dishes, or walk into people on the street, or trip over your own feet –"

"Alright, I get it, just go." I waved Steve towards where there were other men milling about near the circle of chairs.

He had a point – I was the family klutz. My mother kept telling me that I was going to grow out of it, but I was twenty now and just as bad as ever. It wasn't so bad unless I was nervous and I guess I was nervous because I felt so out of place.

A moment later, Steve was mingling with the other men there, talking and milling about. I got the odd look, but no one seemed to come right out and ask Steve. I assumed that they thought that if Steve wanted them to know who I was, Steve would tell them. I knew Steve. Until I prodded him or someone asked, he wasn't going to say a word about who I was or why I was there. It wasn't his way to make the first move in these kind of situations. I guess he felt like he was bragging or looking for attention when he just started talking about things like that. I thought Steve had a point. You came across a lot more open when you weren't controlling the conversation.

"Hi Rebecca!"

I clutched the tray to my chest again and turned to see Jace right behind me.

"Hi Jace."

"I'm really glad you came. I wasn't so sure you would."

He was smiling and was standing really close. He had height on me, so I had to look up at him. That wasn't saying much – about the only one I never had to look up around here was Chrissy. The only one in the family I never had to crane to look at was my mother, who I thankfully had a few inches on by the time I was fifteen. All the men and women in my family were tall and somehow, I was skipped on that gene.

"Neither was I. I don't even know why I'm here," I told him.

"Here, why don't you set that tray down and I'll introduce you around," Jace suggested and I glanced at the tray.

The baking was covered in wax paper, so there was no chance of it getting on my clothes, but still, it would be a shame to squish it. So I set the tray down and brushed off my yellow sweater, just in case there were crumbs on it. Jace unwrapped the tray and immediately had one of my cookies up to his lips. He took a huge bite and groaned happily.

"Steve bragged about your cookies," Jace told me, picking up another. "And that's saying something. I don't think that I have ever heard him brag about anything. But these cookies deserve it."

I blushed and Jace's smile brightened. He offered me his arm and I took it. His sleeve was rolled up, so his arm hair tickled my fingers. He was built somewhere between Steve and Darry on both muscle and height. I groaned. Why was I so flustered by this guy?

"You look lovely tonight. Yellow suits you."

Oh yeah. He complimented me, got in my space, and generally tried to make sure he had my attention. No guy had ever been like that around me before. No wonder it was unsettling.

"Have you had the grand tour?" Jace asked and I shook my head. "Well, let's start here. This is our meeting room. And that door there? That leads to my office. If you go back towards the entrance, there are restrooms and even some smaller rooms we use for table and chair storage, but they turn into smaller meeting rooms for five or six in a pinch."

"Small place," I told him and he smiled.

"There isn't much room in the budget for anything bigger or more expensive than free."

I returned his smile. Oh, I needed to put some distance between us before he got the wrong idea.

"Well, it looks like this session is going to start. I should introduce you before they get going," Jace explained, tugging me towards Steve and the others at the circle of chairs.

"I don't think that matters," I told him, trying to dig my heels in, but it was a freshly waxed floor and I was sure all I would accomplish would be leaving heel prints in the cleaning.

"Of course it matters," Jace assured me.

"Steve would have introduced me," I countered.

"Steve is strange," Jace stated and I dug my painted nails into his arm, causing a wince across his handsome features.

"Steve is my family."

"So you don't deny it?"

I opened my mouth to tell him off for insinuating...whatever he was insinuating – I was a little lost on the uptake there – when Jace stopped at the far side of the circle and moved so I was standing in front of him. His hands on my shoulder kept me there and I was sure I looked mortified.

"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Steve Randle's cousin. This is Rebecca Randle."

"Brandt," I corrected quickly.

"Sorry. Rebecca Brandt," Jace corrected. "Rebecca was the one that convinced Steve to join our little group when it first started two years ago. You all remember how hard it was then because we were still getting organized."

It was more of a statement than a question and three or four of them nodded. Steve was leaned back in his chair, looking like he was debating over whether to be amused by my plight or irritated by the attention Jace had managed to snag the pair of us. Of course, as far as anyone else was concerned, that meant he looked like he was staying as cool as a cucumber sitting in a barrel of ice chips.

"Sitting here and talking is always half the battle. Getting here takes support." Jace squeezed my shoulders and I tried not to blush – I was in yellow and it would really stand out. "So I thought you all should meet this great gal before I stole her away until the end of the night."

Some of them smiled, others didn't twitch, and one of them kind of waved. So I awkwardly waved back. Jace steered me off, and Steve just watched as I was shown to the office. Oh, I was going to get him back for this someday.

And for the next hour I was subjected not only to an interrogation as to every aspect of my life, but also to hearing Jace's life story. He was a local boy, got drafted, was sent home after a shot to the shoulder in basic training to where his fiancé was waiting for him. They married, they got pregnant and then...he lost everything thanks to a complication in the delivery room.

I felt bad for him there, the way he was sad, but tried to brush it off anyway as something he had moved on from. So I guess that was the main reason why I let him talk me into a game of poker. And that was how Steve found us when he walked into the office. I was happy to say I was holding my own. He was no Steve. That or he was being nice and letting me win, which also implied he was no Steve. Steve didn't believe in false pride. He also really liked winning. Jace seemed more content just to play. I imagine with the boys he was the slick card player that Steve had credited him to be. It was a double standard, but I was willing to run with it.

"Alright, I will see your two paperclips and raise you three more," Jace told me confidently, laying them on the desk we were using.

"Is that a tack?" I asked, picking out the stubby, sharpened point.

"I ran out of paper clips." He shrugged.

"That should mean I win," I told him.

"If we were playing to win," he replied.

"We weren't?" I asked and he smiled brightly, like he thought I was a real card. Gosh, he reminded me of Sodapop right then and my own smile faltered.

"Call him," Steve suggested from behind me, frightening me so I nearly dropped my cards.

"I was going to!" I huffed, relieved it was just Steve and annoyed he had snuck up on us.

"I fold, then," Jace informed us, smiling at Steve. "I've played enough poker with him to know when to take my thumb tacks and leave the table. As it is, all my papers are going to be loose until I go buy another box of paper clips."

I smiled and turned my cards up for him to see. I had nothing and Steve was good in a bluff. Jace laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him and picked up every last paper clip, intent on keeping them.

Steve gave me a strange look and I shrugged. "For next time."

Jace lit up, bright smile and all. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"Come on. I told Darry we wouldn't be terribly late and I still owe you that coke," Steve urged and I followed him from the office.

"How was your session?" I asked and Steve shrugged, just like I knew he would. "I had a good time."

"That's surprising. I thought you were anti-Jace," Steve said, seemingly curious when I knew he wasn't all that interested.

"Yep. You kinda have to give the guy a chance after an hour and his life story," I replied.

"Yep. Helped that he was letting you whip him at poker," Steve added.

"There was that." I nodded and walked over to the refreshment table for my tray.

All the cookies were gone, but the banana bread was mostly still sitting there. I glanced at Steve who took the tray and tipped it into the waiting garbage can. Well, if actions didn't speak louder than words...

He didn't look the least bit guilty as he stood there. "Don't worry – I phoned ahead to tell Darry to pitch all the stuff at their place so your feelings wouldn't get hurt twice."

And right then seemed like a good time to laugh. No one could make me laugh like Steve. The funny thing was he wasn't even trying.

The lights were still on when I walked into the house with the empty tray hanging from my left hand. There was no one in the living room, so I decided to take my chances with the kitchen. I made it to the doorway before stopping in surprise. Sitting at the kitchen table, writing on a note pad and munching on banana bread was none other than Ponyboy.

"You actually like it?" I asked, causing him to look up, mid-bite, his mouth full.

He slowly nodded, swallowing somewhere along the way. I beamed at him, watching as he set the piece in his fingers down like he was uncertain about eating it now.

"You are fantastic!" I yelped, coming over and kissing him soundly on the cheek.

The blush that coloured his cheeks made me smile. Someone else around here who blushed was refreshing.

"You eat as much as you want. I'll even make more!" I assured him, getting a fast nod in response. "Good night!"

"Good night," he called back after clearing his throat.

I skipped over to my coat to get my journal and then nearly strolled right into Darry, who was standing in the hallway. He gave me a worried look, but I ignored him and flopped down on my bed to turn on the light. I had my pen out a moment later, wanting to write about my night while it was still fresh in my mind, but first thing was first.

"_I have a change to make to my previous entry. Ponyboy Curtis isn't just unbelievable. He is absolutely wonderful, blush and all. It takes a big man to eat something that bad and actually like it. That's the last time I bake banana bread."_

* * *

Well, another chapter down! Hopefully another update on this soon. I have a bit of my groove returning, slowly but surely. So yeah...I know, never met a writer less articulate, eh?

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens & Zickachik


	8. Chapter 8

I live! Barely. Sorry about not getting around to posting lately, but literally barely alive here between papers, presentations, propositions, not sleeping, babying family, having my best buddy calling gleefully from a tropical island while it is -28 degrees out fricking side... On to other things, like this chapter! Special thanks to Zickachik for making me make sense, as usual.

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the show!

Chapter 8

"_June 10__th__. Today Steve's fiancée is coming back to town. I thought that maybe they would like a few days together, but as it turns out, they want to go out with me to dinner tonight. I'm not so sure how I feel about that. I can't help but remember the last time I went out with Steve and his girl. I keep reminding myself that Meredith is not Evie. I suppose this is one of those occasions where I will just have to stop worrying and hope everything goes well. Otherwise, it'll turn into some self-fulfilling prophecy and then I'd never forgive myself. All I have to do is be myself and put my best foot forward." _

That was easier said than done. I was going to meet the woman that was going to take over Steve's life. I was going to sit across from her, see how well she and Steve fit together and I was going to dread every moment that brought them closer to being married. I sighed and told myself to stop thinking like that. Steve was bull-headed, independent, and utterly self-reliant. There was no way that any woman would take charge of him in any way other than a partnership. That was why he and Evie never worked out. Evie seemed to think that she would be the centre of their little world. Steve didn't ever see things that way. He didn't have time to change his world to revolve around anyone else. He was too busy trying to figure out who Steve was, let alone trying to puzzle out who Evie wanted Steve to be. Life was too short.

I suppose that was one reason why I was nervous to meet her. She was no Evie – she was permanent. I'd had male friends in the past who had gone off and been married or involved with girls seriously and the same thing happened over and over again – little Becca always got left behind, shoved out, or just plain forgotten to make the new girl happy.

Well, I was grown up now. If this Meredith thought that Steve was going to forget me, then she really didn't know Steve. Sadly enough, I was the only family Steve really had. His parents were horrible, Mark was too busy for him, his aunt out in California never did bother to find out if he was even alive and he had never met anyone in my family aside from me. On the flip side of things, I had my mother and Mark, Dad and Bobby, Bobby's wife and kids. I had other people I could turn to, but no one that understood things like Steve. Losing him would really hurt, if it came to that.

The other worry for the night was feeling like the third wheel. I was tempted to invite Darry, or Ponyboy, even Tim Shepard along just so it wouldn't be so two against one. Any other day of the week I would be appalled at how insecure I was about all this, but it was Steve and he was getting married and I was...well, this nervous mess of thoughts. It was times like this that I really hated how everyone was grown up and had a job. I could have used a distraction. I'd already cleaned the kitchen, the living room and given up on the mess that was my art set. I fiddled with one of the design concepts I had on the go for one of Mark's projects in Portland and ended up scrapping each attempt. Every time I sunk into the work, my worries came roaring back. I just couldn't settle down. I was even thinking that Chrissy would have been a good distraction after hours of fiddling.

That's when I knew I had to do something and get out of the house.

So I did what I always did when I was bored – I went to the store. My mother said I got my shopping habits from my father. Basically, I couldn't appreciate wandering around stores for hours, finding the best prices, and buying something I really didn't need. I was more of a "get it and get out" type of shopper, but taking an absurd amount of time there and back was just fine. And today was a good day for just wandering around. It was summer time in Tulsa, which meant it was hot, dry, and, just when you thought that you were going to off yourself because of the constant heat, occasionally breezy. When the slight breeze did come by, you could smell the dust. Soda had joked to me once during my first visit to Tulsa that dust was a protective covering in Oklahoma. Darry had frowned, handed him a rag, and informed his brother that wasn't the case in their house. Soda had just grinned and wildly wiped every surface he could find down while Steve smirked and leaned against the wall while we waited. It was one of the last times I had seen them together. If I had known that then, I think the whole day would have meant a little more to me. As it was, just over a year later, Soda was gone, Steve was a mess, and everything seemed covered in dust that no one had the heart to attack with Soda's exuberance.

I shook my head, thinking about that same summer and the epic adventure Steve and I had when it came to making fresh lemonade. It seemed like a good idea on such a hot day. As you may have guessed, the store didn't have a big selection of lemons. Actually, what they had were the smallest, sickliest looking lemons I had ever seen, but it wasn't like I needed them for decoration or anything. I just needed them to make lemonade. If they were sour, sugar could be added. If they were slightly sweet and tangy, all the better. At least they were available. The rest of the store looked like there had been a fifty percent off sale and everything had to go. Shelves were bare, boxes were on the floors, and the poor grocery boy looked like he had been run ragged. It also felt like every person I passed was out to bump into me. I was thankful when I reached the till and nearly crashed into where Ponyboy was standing at the checkout.

"What happened here?" I asked, seeing he had an apple and an orange in his hands.

I guess it must have been lunch time over at the Pickett drug store. Pony was wearing his apron looped around his waist and had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He looked downright professional. His hair was even combed back. I would have laughed last week. This week, knowing what he looked like under his clothing, I wasn't about to laugh.

"They're shutting down. There's a newer, bigger place moving in across the street."

He gestured towards where there was a bunch of final-stage construction across the street. I frowned.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's a chain grocery store. That's what they do. They move in, take over, and boot out small mom-and-pop-run places like this that have been here for forever and should have a more dignified end."

I frowned at him. "And what would be a more dignified end for a grocery store?"

"Anything but being taken over. Heck, being put out of business by Two-Bit's sticky fingers would have been more dignified."

"What's eating you?" I asked, taking his fruit so I could pay for it with my lemons.

"Nothing," he told me, sounding withdrawn.

I sighed, handing over a bill for the fruit. "You're channelling Steve."

He sent me a shrug and took his fruit as we walked out of the grocery store and across the street to sit on the bench across from the drug store where Ponyboy made his living five days a week. He pulled a bagged lunch, piece by piece, from the deep pockets of his apron. I could see why he would want fresh food.

"Tell me you're not going to eat those." He gestured at my lemons and I smirked.

"Nope. I have bigger plans for these lemons," I stated, bouncing the bag happily.

"Like what?" He asked, biting into a leftover meatloaf sandwich from last night.

"Oh no, you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." I was still curious about why he was so mad about the store closing.

"I could guess what you would be doing with a bag of lemons," he replied and I sighed.

"But you wouldn't know for sure and your burning curiosity would surely drive you to distraction all day," I informed him and he sighed.

"I have the feeling you'd be the one distracted all day," he pointed out.

He thought he was so clever. So what if he was right?

"Keep telling yourself that," I suggested, leaning back on the bench and letting the world pass by.

Finally, once Pony had been through all his food except the orange, he sighed and contemplated the bright fruit in his hands.

"You know what's bugging me? Nothing is ever good enough for people anymore. They see something bigger, something more expensive, and they want it. No one appreciates what they have while they have it." He turned the orange in his fingers. "Years from now, no one is going to remember that store was ever there, but that impersonal thing across the street will be here for generations, probably sold every other decade to people who think they can run it better."

"Is this really about the store?" I asked, knowing there had to be something bigger behind this since that made no sense whatsoever.

"It's not just the store. It's the whole damn county. Heck, it's probably the whole damn world," Pony sighed. "Did you know that the government changed the draft exceptions again?"

"No, I hadn't heard."

"You've heard about all the university protests against the war, though?"

"Yes."

We'd watched the reports on TV from after the shooting at Kent State in May and it was frightening. I dreaded turning on the TV for a whole month, convinced I would see Ponyboy in the middle of one of those protests against men with guns. Darry would kill him if the police didn't first and I would help. That was the real horror of it all. People were dying right here to protest killing in another country. Young, idealistic, academic youths... It was a damn shame to toss away the future like that.

"Well, the government came up with a way to put a stop to some of it. College students are now subject to the draft unless they're over twenty six or married or have flat feet or something that keeps them out of the war."

"That's horrible!" I gasped.

"Yeah. I wrote my final paper on how I felt about that idea and the whole draft system."

He was leaning back on the bench, looking up at the leaves of the tree that was shading us. You would have thought Ponyboy would have been patriotic towards the war because he had a brother fight and die over there. I knew better. I remembered how hard things were after Soda was gone and how messed up Steve was. I didn't blame him for hating the damn war. I hated the war on his behalf. If I had my way, there wouldn't be fighting or guns or any new and more horrifying ways to kill other people.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for writing that?" I asked and he shrugged.

"At this point, I'm angry enough to not care anymore."

I wanted to hug him then. "Don't talk like that. Your brothers would be so mad if they heard you talking like that."

"That's the thing. I only have one brother thanks to this war. That's what makes me mad, that and they keep changing the rules and sending home broken men who were forced over there as kids not even old enough to drink. No one wants to listen, no matter how loud the protests are. Every person in America should be mad, if only for the reason that voices are being ignored."

And how could I argue with him there? Soda was dead, it was two years later, the war was still going on, and Ponyboy was still hurting. He was right, as well as being mad. How was anyone supposed to fight the wrongs in this world when there was no way to do so?

We sat in silence for a while and Ponyboy finally tucked the orange away in his apron. I fully intended to corner Pony one of these days so we could have a long talk about what he was going through. I wondered if anyone had really tried to talk to him – that was always Soda's job. But today was not the day to press him any further. He still had half a day of work and I imagined it would be hard enough with what we had talked about already. So I let my shoulder brush his and treated him like he was Steve for once. It was the only thing I could think to do.

I guess it wasn't such a bad guess. Ponyboy eventually threw me a little smile and stood, glancing at where his manager was turning the sign in his store window. I supposed lunch was over.

"Save me some of that lemonade," he directed and I shook my head.

"With all these lemons, you assume there will be none left when you get home?"

"That's another three and a half hours from now. There won't be a drop left if I don't beat Two-Bit and Darry home."

"Good point."

Pony grinned a little and waved as he jogged across the street and back into his busy day. I sat on the bench for a while longer, just people watching, before I figured that I had wasted enough of the day so that I would have to rush to get myself together before dinner with Steve and Meredith.

The lemonade came out a bit tart and Ponyboy was right. Everyone stopped for a glass when they walked through the door, but there was half a pitcher left when Ponyboy finally got home. I assumed it would be gone before morning.

I was taking the curlers out of my hair when Steve appeared at my door with a tall glass in his hands, thus proving my theory about the juice being gone. It was nearly seven and I knew we had to get going, but my hair had a temper sometimes.

"Sometimes I think you do this to yourself on purpose," Steve sighed.

"The curlers? Well, yeah – they didn't spring to life and tangle in my hair on their own," I replied, working one of the last few out.

"No, I mean make yourself late. You had plenty of time."

"Time got away from me." I shrugged, wincing at the pull at the side of my head from one or two fine hairs. Guys had it so easy.

"It always does. So I'm starting to think you make yourself late on purpose."

"That's just dumb. It sounds like something Two-Bit would do for kicks," I huffed, combing out the hair I had completely freed from its torment.

For all that work and aggravation, I had a light curl through my blonde hair and it looked good, if a bit dry. Welcome to Tulsa, though.

"Yeah, it does. But he would have gotten the idea from you. Hurry up."

"Going to leave without me?" I asked, confident Steve would never do such a thing.

Steve didn't answer, only taking a sip of his lemonade and giving me looks that were definitely impatient. He didn't have to do that. Only a minute later I was ready to go. I had decided on a beige blouse and a brown skirt I thought were tasteful. Steve...well, he looked nice, if mismatched. His brown suit jacket, black pants, and blue striped tie just looked odd. I figured this was dressed up for Steve and kept my comments to myself.

The restaurant Steve picked was a far cry from The Dingo or something on The Ribbon. This one was probably what the middle class would call fancy. I'd been to plenty of them before in my time, but none with Steve. He didn't have the money, time, or patience for a place like this. Naturally, that meant it was Meredith's idea. Already she was changing him. Steve wasn't perfect, but I could never imagine changing him. He wouldn't be Steve anymore. He'd be someone else. And that would be a shame, since Steve was one of a kind.

I tried not to think on that as I followed Steve into the restaurant. He weaved between tables until he got to one near the back and by the window. Sitting at the table was a pretty girl. When I say pretty, I mean pretty, but kind of plain. Dark hair, brown eyes, and an even complexion. She didn't stand out, not like Evie had with her loud make up and strange clothes. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Steve liked her. After all, Steve liked to fade into the background, too. She brightened when she saw Steve, eyes lit up like candles on a birthday cake. She looked...sweet. I never saw Steve going for sweet. He needed sass to keep his life interesting. That was why he had me, after all.

Steve leaned over to kiss her in greeting before turning towards me.

"Mere, this is Becca. Becca, this is Meredith," he introduced.

She looked me over and I had the feeling she wasn't as sweet as she let on. Still, she smiled and held out her hand for me to shake.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" She chirped and I nodded. "Well, officially outside of Daddy's office."

"Likewise."

I didn't remember her. I didn't remember her daddy's office. But I didn't figure that was the best way to start off with her. After all, she and Steve could be married for years and I didn't want to screw up any relationship I had with my cousin because of something so trivial as her taking offense to me not even remembering her when she had gone to the trouble to remember me.

Wow, I had to start thinking in smaller sentences...

"Please, sit," she directed and both Steve and I did so like a pair of trained lap dogs.

Meredith sat, smiling and straightening her hair. I knew the type. I had grown up with girls like her in Toronto. She was probably acting all nice and cheery in a restaurant a step down for her just to make her date happy. She'd turn mean the moment Steve was gone. Like I said, she only looked sweet.

I mentally told myself to shut up. I was going to drive myself nuts coming up with all the things I thought I knew about her before I got the chance to actually know her.

"I am so glad you could come down to help us with the wedding. Steve said you would, but he waited so long to ask," Meredith sighed. "He knows best when it comes to his family, though."

I wanted to ask her what she knew about Steve's family, about our family, but let it slide. Steve told her what he wanted to and what she did with the information was up to her.

"It was no problem. I was going to spend the summer here anyway," I replied, giving Steve a look that sent him diving into his menu.

"Well, it seems like there is so much to do still. Steve is rather useless at this, so it will be nice to have you here to help," she added, sending Steve a fond smile.

I glanced at Steve again, watching him slouch his shoulders in an attempt to completely hide behind the leather bound menu. Steve wasn't useless at anything. He was just smart enough to convince people he was so he wouldn't have to bother with it. Sometimes, Steve was far too clever for his own good.

"Yeah, I'll bet," I commented, watching Steve flip the page.

I picked up my own menu as Meredith went on about her trip out of town and wedding plans and every other little thing she could think of to babble on about. We ordered somewhere in between and Steve actually picked up the conversation, talking about his day and answering Meredith's questions. I was jealous right then. Anytime I asked Steve how work was, I got the simple reply of "It was work". Meredith got details and Meredith actually looked interested and engaged in the conversation, much more than Steve had been in her stories. I had to admit that they seemed happy together, much more so than Steve and Evie had ever been. Whatever they had, it seemed like the kind of thing that lasted. I wasn't sure why that bothered me so much.

"So, did you ask her yet?" Meredith suddenly asked Steve in the middle of a very rich, chocolate dessert.

"No. That's your job," Steve replied simply.

"Well, she is your cousin, I thought you would have asked her," Meredith offered with a shrug.

"Ask me what?" I asked, not willing to listen to them banter all day.

"Well, thanks to an unforeseen pregnancy, my bridesmaid is nine months pregnant and self conscious. So, we have a dress, but no one to fill it," Meredith supplied.

"She's trying to ask if you'll be a bridesmaid at our wedding," Steve clarified, eating more of his dessert.

I blinked. She wanted me to be a bridesmaid. Wow. Talk about your snap decisions. She'd only known me for an hour and Steve probably barely even told her anything about me. What really surprised me was Steve wanted me to do it. If he didn't, he would have let me flounder with the implied question – I'm not good with those since they're not direct and you could easily misinterpret them. Steve knew that, Steve rescued me, and I suppose I really owed Steve for a lot more than that.

"Please? You are practically the only family Steve is inviting to the wedding and it would be a shame if you had to just sit on your own the whole time."

I frowned. I did know people in Tulsa, after all. I wouldn't be sitting alone. Worse to worst, I could borrow Jace for the day. She made it sound like she was doing me a favour. I glanced at Steve and saw he looked earnest, but he wasn't going to ask. He left it up to me to accept Meredith's invitation - to accept Meredith. Damn Steve...

"Uh...sure," I finally replied.

"Great!" Meredith beamed.

"Yeah," I replied with much less enthusiasm.

Steve looked relieved and I wondered if he really thought this was important or he really didn't want to deal with the fall out. Either way, he owed me. I didn't care if we were even or I owed him more. This was the kind of thing he would owe me for until the day that he died.

The rest of dessert went on like that until Steve finally suggested we should be going since he had work early the next morning. Meredith faked a yawn at the prompt and I resisted rolling my eyes. I felt fifteen again with all the restraint I was putting into not being a brat.

Steve finally kissed Meredith, promising he would "see her at home" after he dropped me off. He was grinning all the way out to the car like I hadn't seen him do since before Soda died. Oh, he had it bad. Well, for Steve, anyway.

He didn't bother asking me what I thought of Meredith, instead focusing on what I thought about the restaurant. Steve didn't care about what I thought about the restaurant or what I thought about Meredith. Meredith was what he was avoiding talking about, though. He was acting like the two biggest pieces of his life hadn't met and stared at each other all night trying to figure out why the other was so special. Steve, he didn't want to acknowledge the undercurrents, though. He knew I either liked her or I didn't. He knew she either liked me or she didn't. Either way, Steve was marrying her and he was keeping me and he knew we would somehow make a peace with it. If I wanted to keep Steve, I would have to. It was frustrating not to be able to talk to Steve about it, though. I shared everything with Steve and when it counted, he opened up to me. Was this something we would lose when he was married?

It was really bugging me when I finally walked through the door of Darry's house. Ponyboy was sitting on the couch, reading the paper upside down when I walked in. I was starting to think he was waiting up for me or something. Maybe he just liked reading the paper upside down. Either way, I was too preoccupied worrying about everything else.

"I need you to be Steve," I told him flopping down beside him on the couch.

He nodded slowly, folding the paper and setting it on his other side. "Ok, but I thought we agreed one Steve was enough."

"I'm not joking. I need to talk to Steve, but I can't talk to Steve about this, so you need to be Steve. Please?" I threw in for good measure.

"Alright, I'll try."

"Thank you," I sighed.

"What's the problem?" Pony asked and I shrugged, pulling at the hem of my skirt.

"Meredith is perfect. And Steve's not, but she seems to like him that way and...man, he's fallen hard."

"I see." Pony nodded. "And how do you feel about that?"

Talk about borrowing from Freud...It was a valid question, though.

"And...I don't know! I mean, I didn't even know she existed last week! And now they're talking wedding and kissing and living together and...I just don't know."

"A little too much information all at once?" He suggested and I nodded.

"Exactly. Steve just shouldn't have done this. I've had no time to adjust to this."

"I don't think Steve was thinking about you when he was going through all this," Pony pointed out.

"I know he wasn't. Does he ever think about anyone else but himself?" I sighed. "No, that's not fair. He's Steve and he's been doing so well. And now he's happy and in love and I should be thrilled for him."

"But?" Pony prompted and I sighed again.

"She's perfect." I shrugged. "I feel like she's going to make Steve so preoccupied that he'll cut me out, you know? We won't be more than strange relations who talk when they feel guilty but really have nothing to say, you know?"

"Becca, Steve won't do that. But you have to accept he's getting married. All men who marry rearrange their priorities around their wife and kids. Steve won't be any different, but that doesn't mean he won't have room for you. You're Becca. I know Steve doesn't say it, but you're pretty much the only person he cares about."

"And now Meredith," I put in and Pony nodded.

"I suggest you get to know her before you start letting this eat away at you. You never know, you might end up seeing what Steve does and liking her."

He was right. Right now, I just didn't like her because she was part of this change. If I kept on like that, Steve and I would probably never be ok again - what friendship is when you can't stand one of the friend's spouses?

"I guess," I agreed.

"Who knows; you two might make friends and make Steve feel put out."

"Do you even know Steve Randle?" I asked and Pony shrugged. Steve was never put out. He did the putting out, clearly.

"You know what I mean. Right now you're just put out. Give her a chance, ok?"

"Wow. You really pull off the words well, but you're no Steve when it comes to the tone or the certain sense of authority on all things." I shook my head at him and he blushed.

"Thanks, I think."

"You know what really kills me about all this?" I asked and Pony nodded me on. "She's trying. She wants me to be a bridesmaid and help out with the wedding so she can get to know me. It sure makes not liking her harder than it has to be."

Pony chuckled a little and I smacked his arm lightly.

"What's so funny?"

"Aside from you? Two-Bit's the best man. Can you imagine how much better you'll feel watching him standing in a church on his best behaviour?"

I laughed at the thought. The image of Two-Bit standing beside Steve in his best duds in front of a group of people and not allowed to tell a single joke...Oh, that was too funny for words. Then there would be me, standing there, awkward as hell, looking like I was about to kill the bride...Between the pair of us, no one was going to forget Steve's marriage any time soon. Somehow, that was just funny and I laughed harder. It didn't seem so bad when you looked at it that way.

"Thank you," I half chuckled, leaning against Pony's side.

"Anytime, I guess." He shrugged, picking up the paper again.

"Anything about Canada in there?" I asked and he shook his head.

"No. It's always about the war these days."

No wonder it made more sense to read it upside down.

"It'll be over someday and you'll be reading the paper and wondering when the news got so boring," I assured him.

"I can't wait."

I agreed with him fully. Nothing else really had to be said, so I rested my head on his shoulder and read with him for a while. Some day it would all be over, but not soon enough.

* * *

Ok, I had to go back to my American History notes to get this one out. As a University student, I was pretty shocked when I heard about the draft changing and the Kent students being fired upon. Man...

Any comments are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens & Zickachik


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